


The Other Side of Silence

by appeuro



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, Drama, Drug Use, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Psychological Drama, Psychological Trauma, Romance, Slice of Life, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-25
Updated: 2015-04-13
Packaged: 2018-03-19 12:23:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 31,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3609981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/appeuro/pseuds/appeuro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kyungsoo's universe is composed of inky blacks and quiet starry whites, but Jongin is in piercing color and bright summer lights. When they come together, things are bound to change.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Remington No. 5

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Welcome to The Other Side of Silence. It's not much, but I hope you enjoy reading it.

Kyungsoo pushed the carriage return lever on his typewriter, the platen gliding to the right, taking him back to the beginning. Kyungsoo loved his typewriter. He had found it sitting on top of a bureau on the side of the road a few years ago—abandoned and forgotten. Though he knew little about typewriters, Kyungsoo couldn't let it sit there—no case, no home.

Even though the possibility of it being broken, damaged by rain or neglect, was high, he lugged it home anyway, and after setting it on his desk, he let his pale fingers ghost over the glossy black keys with white symbols on top, like 48 eye-balls peering up at him. Kyungsoo nearly jumped out of his skin when he had heard the click-clack sound for the first time. It worked.  
  
Kyungsoo and his mother moved out into the countryside two years ago, and he believed they had become happier. He didn’t miss the hustle and bustle of the city, the honking of cars, and the blaring sound of time passing you by. The wind caressing the leaves and a cat purring softly under a stray sunray was enough noise for him, but Kyungsoo told himself he could make an exception for his new typewriter, even if it was a bit loud and clunky.  
  
Kyungsoo rested his hands above the keys once again, contemplating what to type next. He liked not seeing a blinking cursor, reminding him time was ticking away. With a typewriter, things were different. It was as if time froze, waiting for him to catch up. Kyungsoo wasn't a writer—he barely even read—he just liked to hear the _click-clack-ding_ fill the silence in his room. Or maybe it wasn’t click-clack-ding. Maybe it was _ticka-ticka-zingggg_. Whatever it was, he loved it.  
  
Typing again, Kyungsoo pressed each button with the tip of his finger, making sure to look up after every word in case the machine jammed. Although he typed whatever came to mind, the typewriter made every keystroke sound important—like he was writing the next greatest novel or something.  
  
When he reached the end of the paper, Kyungsoo released the white sheet filled with black words. He set it beside him, and lifted his mug of lukewarm tea. He brought the cold  porcelain to his plump, pink lips, but jumped when a shrill voice rung throughout the house. The tea sloshed out the mug, the dark liquid falling onto the newly printed paper below. Kyungsoo paused as the blotch spread, the color going from brown to tan as it moved outward. It was kind of beautiful, he thought as he slammed the mug down, his wooden chair scraping against the floor as he stood.  
  
“Kyungsoo!”  
  
Kyungsoo flinched at the top of the stairs before running down the two flights.  
  
“Yes, Mother,” he answered, panting when he reached the bottom.  
  
“I thought you were gone,” his mother called, rushing over to him, her eyes wide with unshed tears.  
  
Kyungsoo frowned. Everyone had always said he had his mother’s big, round, dusky colored eyes, and he wondered if he looked just as sad too.  
  
Kyungsoo gathered his mother into his arms, shushing her as he ran a hand through her salt and pepper colored hair, thin and stringy from stress.  
  
“No, Mother. I’m here,” Kyungsoo reassured her.  
  
He walked the thin woman over to the plush sofa before tugging the knit afghan hanging over the back of the couch and laying it over his mother’s lap.  
  
“My boy,” she cooed, smiling as Kyungsoo smoothed the fringes of the black and white blanket.  
  
“How about I make you some tea?” Kyungsoo suggested, feigning a tired smile.  
  
  
  
Kyungsoo set the kettle on the stove as he peered out of the small window above the sink. He watched as the sun hid behind tall evergreen trees, and he noticed that with the sun hiding, the trees no longer looked green and full; they looked black and flat—like words on blank pages or shadows on white walls—but the menacing scene didn't frighten Kyungsoo; The darkness made the trees more alluring, and he wished to know what else they were hiding behind their branches.  
  
Kyungsoo's heart paused when white steam came barreling out of the spout of the tea pot. A loud whistle sounded throughout the small kitchen, and Kyungsoo cut the heat source immediately, and only then did his heart resume beating.

  
  
After a cup of tea and a hundred brush strokes, Kyungsoo was able to convince his mother to go to bed. It was their routine and the only way she could sleep. Gathering her hair into a loose pony tail, Kyungsoo tied a blue ribbon in a bow before leading her to the bedroom, and when she finally settled, her head against the white of the pillow, Kyungsoo pecked her on the forehead and reassured her he'd be there in the morning.  
  
Kyungsoo sighed once in his room. He looked over at his abandoned station, finding everything just as he had left it, the only difference being the paper he had printed earlier was now lying on the floor—probably plucked off of the surface by a gust of wind. He walked over to pick up the sheet, eyeing the tea stain, long dry, at the bottom of the page. He changed his mind. The colored stain wasn't beautiful; it was ugly, messy, and clashed with the black and white behind it. He ran a thumb over the rough, textured, and unique spot before crumpling the paper and tossing it into the trash. Good riddance, he thought as he closed the window in front of his desk, sliding the latch over. Rooming in the attic came with the perk of a woods filled view. The scenery was calming and never dull, especially when black birds played atop dark green trees, fluttering from one bristled peak to the next.  
  
Kyungsoo shivered slightly as he slid between his white sheets. Nights were always freezing. The cold air easily squeezed through the cracks and nestled into the corners of their old home, so Kyungsoo took note to start gathering firewood soon. He and his mother loved sitting in front of the fireplace. It was less noisy than the furnace, and watching the embers come to life, screaming in vivid color, before dying forever in a silent heap of black and white was Kyungsoo's favorite part.  
  
  
  
Kyungsoo woke to the steady beeping of his alarm clock. Fading to life, he sat up and reached a pale hand over to mute the device. The numbers on the old flip clock read six o’clock. Stifling a yawn, he pulled back the covers, hissing when his bare feet made contact with the wooden floor. Kyungsoo hated waking up to the jarring sound of his alarm clock. He thought the sun heating his face or birds chirping in his ear to be a more pleasant way to greet the day. But he wasn't afforded that luxury—not since his father walked out, shattering his mother’s heart with the slamming of the door. Deep down Kyungsoo reckoned he took her mind with him.  
  
It was important Kyungsoo wake before his mother. He had to be the first thing she saw in the morning because if she didn't see him, she’d think he had left her too. It happened before when they lived in the city. Kyungsoo can't forget seeing her in the middle of a busy crosswalk, barefoot, confused, her large black eyes searching, lost in her worn nightgown—red. And it was all too loud—the beeping of the cross walk, the unseeing stares, the deafening car honks, her own piercing fear.  
  
After that incident and her diagnosis, Kyungsoo left school. They moved out to the countryside and lived off of the money his father and the government sent every month. It wasn't much but enough, and everything Kyungsoo did, he did for her.  
  
Kyungsoo brushed back the curtains hanging in front of the small kitchen window as he waited for the water to boil. The scene from yesterday had been sprinkled with snow, transformed overnight. The tree branches looked like they had been dusted with fine powdered sugar, and Kyungsoo smiled at the innocent thought. Winter made everything brighter, cleaner, simpler, and quieter. The thought of typing in front of such serenity excited him.  
  
He prepared breakfast like he usually did before creeping up to his mother's room, and setting the food down on the nightstand, Kyungsoo walked over to draw the curtains. He didn't envy his mother’s view to the outside world because it looked out toward the west. West was just miles of fences with nothing to keep in or out, framing a lonely road with no one to walk on it.  
  
“Kyungsoo…”  
  
Kyungsoo turned as his mother woke, her eyes fluttering open. They were still sad and just a little mad.  
  
“I’m here, Mother,” Kyungsoo replied as he turned from the barren view.  
  
And there began his routine of feeding her, getting her to take her medicine, shower, and dress. Life was made up of a series of routines and rituals anyway, and so Kyungsoo didn't think much of theirs. His mother needed them to survive, and he told himself things were easier, simpler, predictable, better, this way.   
  
As he smoothed the covers on his mother's bed, Kyungsoo heard a light knock at the door. No one ever came to visit, so Kyungsoo chalked it up to his imagination and ignored the sound, but while fluffing the pillows, the knock sounded again. He looked at his mother.  
  
"I'm going to go see who's at the door."  
  
She shook her head from side to side from where she sat at the vanity.  
  
“I have to see who it is,” Kyungsoo said, his tone soft. “I’ll be right back, okay?”  
  
“Maybe it’s your father,” she replied as she clasped his small hands in her own.  
  
Her eyes shone brighter at the thought, but Kyungsoo’s heart dimmed. He had given up on his father returning a long time ago. He was never coming back.  
  
“Yes, Mother. Maybe…,” Kyungsoo lied as he descended the stairs.  
  
The knocking began again, and Kyungsoo‘s heart was pounding in his rib cage. He twisted the lock, and a burst of loose snow swept into the house as the door was slowly opened. Snowflakes swirled into the space between him and the stranger.  
  
“Hi.”  
  
Kyungsoo just stared. The man, no boy, in front of him didn’t look like winter. No, he looked like late summer, early autumn, because his skin was tanned like the last days of July, and his hair was thick and brown, like fallen maple leaves or acorns lying in the middle of the sidewalk.  
  
“I’m sorry for bothering you…”  
  
The boy smiled, his teeth white like the snow he tracked onto Kyungsoo's porch, and his eyes crinkled at each corner.  
  
“It’s okay,” Kyungsoo replied, his hand tightening around the door knob. "Can I help you?"  
  
“Yes, my Grandma lives down the road, and our truck's battery drained because of the cold last night. We were wondering if you could give us a jump or something?”  
  
Kyungsoo found his voice quicker than he thought he would. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear about that… But we don't have any jumper cables.”  
  
The smile fell from the boy’s lips. “Oh, okay. Sorry to bother you. But nice to meet you. I’m Jongin.”  
  
The boy unwrapped his hands from around each other and stuck one out to Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo grasped it, his hands warm inside of Jongin’s much colder ones. Or maybe it was the other way around.  
  
“I’m Kyungsoo. Nice to meet you.”  
  
Kyungsoo smiled as he pulled his hand away to hide behind the door a bit. A gust of wind pushed more loose furls of snow between them. A few landed on Jongin’s coat sleeve.  
  
“Wait!” Kyungsoo called as Jongin turned to walk away. “Um, I can ask my mother if I can drive you into town.”  
  
“Really?”  
  
Kyungsoo nodded as Jongin's bright smile returned.  
  
“Please come in while I ask her. It’s cold out.”  
  
Kyungsoo closed the door as Jongin stood in the doorway.  
  
“Just a minute,” Kyungsoo said as he sprinted up the stairs.  
  
  
  
“It’s your father, right? I'm right, aren't I” his mother asked from her vanity table.  
  
Kyungsoo stopped cold. His mother had put red lipstick on her thin lips, a dusting of pink blush adorned her slightly sunken cheeks, and kohl lined her round eyes making them even rounder. Kyungsoo almost lied to her so the scene wouldn’t be as tragic, but shaking his head, Kyungsoo's eyes slid to the floor.  
  
“It wasn’t Dad,” Kyungsoo said, rushing over to his mother side, trying to calm the storm before it came.  
  
But her lips trembled, and although Kyungsoo hoped that would be all, he felt the tempest brewing in the way she stilled. The next thing he knew, his mother’s thin arms elbowed him away as she began to yell between her tears. She wiped at her lips with the back of her pale hand causing the red to smear outside the lines. The dam broke inside her, and he tried to gather her in his arms, tell her it was okay, but she wouldn’t hear him. She couldn’t hear him when she got like that.  
  
As his mother fought with herself, Kyungsoo remembered Jongin waiting downstairs. He hated to leave her in such a broken state, but he didn’t want Jongin to hear or see this. Sprinting down the stairs, Kyungsoo wiped at his own eyes before turning the corner. He grabbed the keys off of the console table and rushed to the front door.  
  
“I’m so sorry about that,” Kyungsoo said trying to feign a smile, trying to gather himself in front of this stranger, the first stranger in their home since they moved in several years ago.  
  
“Here, please take the truck. Just bring it back when you’re done.”  
  
Kyungsoo grabbed Jongin’s hand and placed the keys inside, curling Jongin's warm fingers over the cold pieces of metal.  
  
“Are you sure?”  
  
Kyungsoo noted the worry in Jongin’s wide almond shaped eyes.  
  
“Y-yes, it’s fine,” he replied nodding his head. “It's fine. I swear!” Kyungsoo exclaimed when he heard a loud crash upstairs. “Just please bring it back!” Kyungsoo yelled as he ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time.  
  
When he turned his head, there was a cloud of snow left in Jongin's wake when he shut the door.

  
  
“Mother, please!” Kyungsoo cried as he watched her fall apart on the floor for the umpteenth time, and thoughts of Jongin evaporated like the snowflakes hitting the floor behind him when he left.  
  
  
  
When Kyungsoo finally managed to get his mother to calm down, cleaned up all the thrown cosmetics, and wiped all the tears, he walked downstairs. Grabbing his jacket from the hook on the wall, he walked out of the house, embracing the blast of frigid air upon his heated face.  
  
All that remained were two tire tracks in the snow when Kyungsoo glanced at the driveway. His eyes slid to the ground. How could he have been so stupid as to lend a stranger their truck? They’d be stranded, and he’d be forced to call his father if "Jongin" didn't bring it back.  
  
Stuffing his hands into his coat pockets, Kyungsoo crossed the snow covered grass, the sound of crunching filling his ears. Kyungsoo loved being outside. The open air and the sense of solitude didn’t seem so bad. Actually, being alone wasn't bad at all. It made things easier. No arguing, no compromising, no leaving, no lying, no explaining his family situation. Easier. Simpler.  
  
  
  
Kyungsoo entered the woods behind his house. He never went too far, just far enough for the house to be out of sight, just far enough to where he could breathe. After walking straight ahead, he reached a tree that had been cut down by the last owners of the home. He began dusting the thin layer of snow, watching as familiar rings appeared under his hand. His mind went back to the time he went to the library to look up how to find the tree’s age. He had rushed home and ran straight to the trunk to begin counting. Even though he got dizzy when the rings were tight and numerous, Kyungsoo counted three times to make sure he was right. He remembered running inside to tell his mother but was hushed by her blank stare and catatonic state.  
  
Kyungsoo stopped the memory as he sat down. Closing his eyes, he exhaled, then inhaled, his nose stinging from the freezing temperature mingling with his warmth. As the wind whipped around his head, Kyungsoo let his mind waqnder to Jongin. He hadn’t been aware anyone lived down the road, and his heart plummeted at the thought of being lied to. Maybe Jongin wasn’t who he said he was. He should know better than to trust people. But then again, maybe Jongin lived in the house where Kyungsoo found his typewriter. It was possible.  
  
Plus, that house was west. Kyungsoo never went west. The day he had found his typewriter was the first and last time he walked down that road. His mother had been taking a nap, and Kyungsoo decided to go exploring. Flipping a coin, he decided if it landed on tails, he'd walk east; If it landed on heads, he'd walk west.   
  
Kyungsoo had walked west for what seemed like forever as he tapped a long stick he had found along the way upon the ground. He kept walking until he spotted a house. It sat back from the road but was still visible, and as he neared the home, the typewriter and other things he assumed were trash came into view. After Kyungsoo left with the typewriter, he never turned back. But now, nearly two years later, he was once again thinking about west.  
  
He was anxious as he walked back into the house and up the stairs to his attic room. How was he going to break the news to his mother about the truck? Maybe he’d lie and say someone stole it. Although Kyungsoo hated lying, they came easy these days, especially when trying to keep his mother calm. He sat down and took a fresh sheet of paper from out of his top drawer. Loading the paper carefully, Kyungsoo made sure it was straight before resting his frigid hands atop the metal rimmed keys.  
  
Finally, he thought. Finally he had something and someone to write about.


	2. Headlights

Kyungsoo was clearing the few dishes they had when he thought he heard a noise. He stiffened, waiting to see if the noise would return, but silence settled over him. His mother was asleep for the night, and Kyungsoo prayed she didn’t wake because getting her to go back to sleep was nearly impossible.

Kyungsoo waited a few more seconds before he walked over to one of the cabinets, and just as he opened one of the doors, the noise returned. It sounded like footsteps, and he nearly dropped the porcelain plate in his hand as he whipped around. Clutching the dish in one hand, the counter with the other, Kyungsoo ruminated over using the plate as a weapon.  He furrowed his eyebrows as he waited with baited breath, and then the noise sounded again, this time it was accompanied by a wave and a bright smile, and Kyungsoo let out a sigh once he made out a face in the window. It was Jongin.

Once composed, Kyungsoo sat the dish down and rushed over to the backdoor. Fumbling with the lock, he forced the door open. A gush of frigid air blew Kyungsoo’s short black hair back as he motioned for Jongin to come in.

“Hey!” Jongin exclaimed, the cold radiating off of his body as he entered the brightly lit kitchen.

Kyungsoo noticed he was wearing a navy blue peacoat and wondered if he was cold.

“Hi.”

Kyungsoo had convinced himself he would never see Jongin again, causing him to be a nervous wreck the entire evening. He had contemplated when or how to break the news about the truck, and he came up with a thousand and one scenarios before deciding not to tell his mother at all.

“Sorry for startling ya, “ Jongin said, a smile playing on his lips as he wiped his leather boots on the cloth mat.

“It’s okay…,” Kyungsoo replied, eyes flickering away from Jongin’s amused stare.

“Thanks for letting me use your truck. Sorry for bringing it back so late, but I did fill it up with gas.”

Jongin stuck out his hand, the keys dangling from his forefinger, a proud smile on his face. Kyungsoo reached for the metal, sliding it off of Jongin’s finger. He murmured a quiet, “Thank you” as he grasped the warm keys in his hand.

“I don’t know what we would have done without ya, ” Jongin said with a chuckle. “Well, I should get going. It’s getting pretty dark.”

Kyungsoo startled out of his near stupor, nodding as Jongin shuffled from side to side.

“Ah, w-wait… I can drive you. It’s dark, like you said.”

Jongin chuckled, and Kyungsoo almost flushed at the sound. It was deep and warm.

“It’s alright. I’m a big boy. Plus, I don’t think I can accept any more offers from you. I already owe you one,” Jongin remarked as he nodded toward where the truck should be parked.

Kyungsoo shook his head from side to side.   
  
“No, I want to.”

 

Kyungsoo put the key in the ignition, and started the truck. Small puffs of white filled the air inside the car, and the roar of the engine blotted out the silence.

“Shit, it’s cold! Aren't you cold without a coat?”

A smile appeared on Kyungsoo’s mouth as he glanced over at Jongin. He was rubbing his hands together while blowing on them.

“No, I'm used to it. I’d turn on the heat, but we’ll probably be at your house before it kicks in,” Kyungsoo replied, feeling sorry for him.

“It’s alright. I just hate the cold.”

“How can you hate the cold when you live out here? It’s cold all of the time,” Kyungsoo asked.

He turned out of the driveway as Jongin pointed for Kyungsoo to turn left. Jongin chuckled again, his hands finding their way to his lap.

“Yeah, that's true, but I’m just helping my family pack up my grandma's stuff. So, hopefully I’ll be back in sunny Seoul in a few weeks.”

Kyungsoo hummed in response. His eyes were on the road as he tried to supress the memories of Seoul that flashed in his mind, and he slowed as he neared Jongin’s house. There wasn't any abandoned furniture out in front anymore, and the lights were on.

“I knew you weren’t from around here.”

“How?”

Kyungsoo heard Jongin twist in his seat, and he withered under the scrutiny.

“Uh, well… It’s just that I tend to know who lives around these parts. There’s not that many people...”

Kyungsoo failed add that he could tell just by the way Jongin looked, the way he smiled, that he wasn’t meant for winter.

“Oh, okay.”

Kyungsoo was impressed with himself. Lying was easy. Putting the truck in park, Kyungsoo sat back before looking over at Jongin, who remained sitting.

“So, are  _you_  from around here?” Jongin asked, his eyebrows raising on the word ‘you’.

Kyungsoo didn’t know how to respond to such a simple question because the answer was complicated, his life was complicated, and he didn't want to think about.

“We moved here a few years ago.”

“You like it?”

Kyungsoo nodded his head. “It’s quiet and a bit out of the way, but doable,” he replied, his hands slipping from the steering wheel.

“It _is_  quiet out here. Quiet enough to drive you crazy,” Jongin said looking out the window, and Kyungsoo noted the dreamy tone in his voice.

“Should I be worried about my speakers?” Kyungsoo said as he placed his hand on the volume knob.

Jongin turned from the window, his smile lopsided. A shiver ran down Kyungsoo’s spine as he met Jongin’s dark brown eyes.

“I don’t know. Turn it on and find out.”

Kyungsoo braced himself for loud music. But as he slowly turned the dial, music fading into clarity, he picked out a saxophone and maybe a clarinet before a sultry voice sounded. He couldn’t help the smile that came to his face.

“I was expected heavy metal or something.”

Jongin's laughter filled the interior of the vehicle, and the sound had Kyungsoo rooted in his seat. It was so colorful.

“What?” Kyungsoo asked bashfully, his hand sliding over to turn the car heater on. He didn’t mind the cold, but maybe Jongin did.

“Heavy metal? Really, Kyungsoo,” Jongin said, a smile still on his face.

Kyungsoo blushed at the sound of his name, but he relaxed in his seat as the music filled the car, another R’n’B song coming on the radio. After a few moments of silence between them, and Jongin adjusting the heat vents, Kyungsoo spoke up.

“Why did you come to the back window when you came to return the truck?”

“I thought you might’ve wanted that.”

Kyungsoo tilted his head as he turned to Jongin.

“I didn’t want to upset your parents, like earlier.” Jongin continued.

“Oh, you heard that…”

“It’s no biggie. I know how parents can be. So, I figured I’d try to wait it out a bit before coming back.”

“Thanks,” Kyungsoo replied, his hands playing with a loose thread on the steering wheel. 

“Well, Kyungsoo, thanks for the ride. I better get inside. It’s snowing again.”

Kyungsoo looked up and saw the snow falling in front of his headlights. White dots falling in black air.

“Uh, you’re welcome,” Kyungsoo replied as he put his hands firmly back on the steering wheel. He should have been getting back himself. All Hell would break loose if his mother woke to find him gone.

“See you around,” 

Jongin jogged across the lawn, and he waved before going into the house.

Once Jongin was inside, Kyungsoo put his hand on the clutch and backed out. A wave of relief washed over him as he pulled up to his own home. Turning the ignition off, Kyungsoo frowned when the music cut off with it. He always drove in silence when alone, but only because his mother never failed to put in the same tape whenever they drove together. He hated that tape, that same sad song of lost love.

Kyungsoo stayed seated, basking in the warmth, sinking in his seat. He continued to sit there with his eyes closed until almost all of the warmth dissipated from within the vehicle., and when he opened his eyes, he could see his breath once again. That was more like what Kyungsoo was used to anyway, a small reminder that he was still alive, still breathing.

He opened the front door as quietly as he could and shut it just as gently. He almost expected his mother’s wild eyes and desperate pleas to welcome him home, but silence enveloped him. Leaning up against the door, Kyungsoo was reluctant to go to bed, but he knew full well he had to.

 

“Ready to go?” Kyungsoo asked as his mother brushed her hair. She always took forever to get ready on days they were going into town. You never know who you might run into, she would always reply when he'd try to convince her to just throw anything on.

Kyungsoo walked his mother out to the truck, and he cringed when she reached forward to press play on the control panel once they settled into their seats. A small smile settled on her face as the sad melody filled the truck.

“Oh, honey? Why are we going this way?”

Kyungsoo’s eyes widened. He had turned left instead of right. Both roads lead to town, but west took longer. He kept driving until he reached the now familiar house, turning into the driveway. His heart was racing as he did so. It had been nearly two weeks since he last saw Jongin. Not that he was expecting to hear from him, but Kyungsoo admitted that it had been nice to talk to someone other than his mother.

"Oh, does someone live there now?"

"Um... Yes..."                  

"Then we should stop by and say hello some time. It's been awhile since we've had neighbors."

Kyungsoo nodded, just relieved his mother didn't ask him how he knew someone lived there.

His mother put the song on repeat the whole way into town, and Kyungsoo was glad he had turned around. Usually she fell asleep, but today she was wide awake. When they reached town, Kyungsoo made a mental list of all the things they needed to get done. He learned a long time ago not to go anywhere with her unprepared.

Kyungsoo  grabbed her arm as he led her to their first stop, the bookstore. He had asked his mother if they could go in because he needed a new ink ribbon for his typewriter.

“Hi, may I help you?”

“Um, yes. I was wondering if you know a place where I can buy typewriter supplies…”

“Oh, yes! There isn’t anywhere around here, but we can put in an order for you and have it delivered for pickup,” the clerk responded, a wide smile on her face.

Kyungsoo counted his lucky stars. He was afraid that he’d have to go to the town over, and he wasn’t sure if he’d ever get the chance because of his mother.

“What model is it, and what do you need?”

“It’s a Remington No. 5, and I’d like to order some ink.”

“Oh, what a gem! William Faulkner, Allen Ginsberg, and even Aldous Huxley used that model!” The clerk rambled on as she retrieved something from behind the counter.

Kyungsoo didn’t know who those people were,  though their names sounded vaguely familiar. His mind was in daze from the flurry of foreign words, but he listened to the clerk in awe. She took out a large book, presumably for orders, and retrieved a pen, handing both over to Kyungsoo.

“All I need is some contact information.”

Kyungsoo nodded before filling the book out.

“So, are you a writer?”

Kyungsoo shook his head, a slight blush creeping up his neck.

“No, I’m not a writer or anything… ”

“Oh!” the lady exclaimed, her eyebrows raising slightly.

Kyungsoo chuckled.

"So, would you like to just order black ink? The model you have can accept two ink spools. You can also order red ink. But, I’m sure you could order whatever color you want to though.”

Color? Kyungsoo couldn’t imagine anything other than producing words in the inkiest of black, but then he was blurting red and blue, and he didn't know why.

“Sure thing!”

Kyungsoo walked out of the store, his mother at his side. He was excited to receive the new ink, and his fingers were itching to get typing.

The final stop on their daily outing, after the hardware store, bookstore, and seamstress, was the grocer slash pharmacy. By this time, Kyungsoo’s mother was visibly irritated. He knew why, but he tried to keep her spirits up.

“I’ll make you anything you want tonight, Mother. What would you like?” He asked as they walked into the grocer.

Kyungsoo pulled his mother's scarf a little tighter around her neck. Her cheeks were angry red. She smiled at her son’s offer, her hands tightening around his arm. They walked through the narrow isles, basket in hand, as she pointed to and grabbed items off of the shelves.

“How about you pay, and I’ll go get your prescription filled.”

Kyungsoo saw the faint flicker of fear in her eyes, the irritableness returning. It was time to go home.

“Come on, I’ll walk you over. The grocer loves you, you know?” Kyungsoo said, looking over to the grocer, a middle aged man with a small bald spot visible atop his head.

His mother blushed, a smile creeping up on her face.

“I know! But I have no interest in him.”

Kyungsoo nudged her toward him.

“Sure you don’t have any interest in him!” Kyungsoo replied in a playful tone.

His mother slapped his arm before smoothing a loose strand behind her ear and walking toward the check out. Kyungsoo turned toward the pharmacy on the other side of the store. His eyes widened when he spotted a sliver of navy blue and warm brown. He ducked behind the nearest endcap, but after a few moments, he peeked around the cans of soup, only to be met with a bright smile.

“Hey, Kyungsoo.”

Kyungsoo straightened and grabbed a can of tomato soup. He hated tomato soup.  It was tart, rich, and entirely too bright of a red.

“Oh, hi, Jongin. W-what’s up?” Kyungsoo replied while trying not to melt into the endcap because he was 100% sure Jongin knew he was hiding from him.   
  
He didn't know why he was hiding from Jongin, but something about him made Kyungsoo unsettled. He chalked it up to not having been around others his age for a while, but knew that really wasn't the reason Jongin made him feel so unsteady.

“Nothing much. Just needed to get out of the house,” Jongin replied. His eyes flickering down to the can in Kyungsoo's hand. “You?” he finished, a quirk to his smile.

Kyungsoo backed up an inch.

“Same. I mean, I’m…" Kyungsoo told himself to calm down before speaking again. "Me and my mother are shopping, but we are almost done,” Kyungsoo mumbled, fumbling with the can in his hand.

“Well, I’ll let you get back to that,” Jongin replied, nodding his head toward the endcap. “I have to go pick up some painkiller's for my mom.”

“Oh, me too!” Kyungsoo blurted out as he fumbled with placing the can back on the shelf.

“You do? Well, we can walk over together.”

Kyungsoo silently berated himself as they walked over to the pharmacy. Why did he seem to forget how to speak every time he was around Jongin? Not that he was good with words to begin with.

“So, what have you been up to?” Jongin asked as they walked.

Kyungsoo thought a bit before replying that he had just been trying to keep warm and fix his typewriter. He didn't mention how much he had let his mind wander back to the night in his truck. Jongin definitely didn't need to know that fact. 

“Oh, so, you’re a writer?” Jongin asked, perking up at the tidbit of information.

“Uh… No, no,” Kyungsoo replied in a hushed tone.    
  
What was up with everyone assuming he was a writer just because he owned a typewriter?

“That’s what they all say before making it big.”

Kyungsoo laughed, embarrassed. Becoming a writer never crossed his mind, not once, and Kyungsoo shut the idea down immediately. He couldn’t afford to start hoping and wishing for things that probably wouldn’t ever come true.

"No, I'm no good with words...," Kyungsoo replied, a hand going to his neck to rub at his nape.

“Hmmm, that’s a shame. I think you’d be a good writer,” Jongin said before walking up to the counter.

Kyungsoo bit his lip as he waited in line. Would he? He wanted to ask Jongin why he thought so, but Jongin was already walking away from the counter, and it was his turn.

“Hey, I’ll catch you later. Oh, and if you change your mind about being a writer, don't forget me when you're famous, Kyungsoo,” Jongin said before turning toward the door.

All Kyungsoo could do was smile like an idiot. Jongin reminded Kyungsoo of a whirlwind sometimes because he always left him in a mess of thoughts and emotions.

Once at the counter, Kyungsoo relayed his order to the pharmacy technician in a hushed tone, and an empathetic look surfaced on the man’s face. Kyungsoo tapped his fingers against the counter. He hated that look, but he was used to it. It was the look everyone always gave him once they found out.

"Mr. Do," the technician said, his voice barely higher than a whisper. "The doctor from Seoul told me to tell you to write him describing how your mother is doing. He may have to see her again."

Kyungsoo was silent as the technician spoke. His mother didn't seem to be getting worse, but he'd write the doctor as soon as his ink arrived. Kyungsoo bowed to the technician once his order was filled and walked over to his mother.

 

“Ah, Kyungsoo! You’ve got yourself a wonderful mother here!” The grocer said as his mother blushed with glee.

“Thank you, Sir,” Kyungsoo replied, bowing before the man.

“I told her not to hesitate to call me if something happens. Yall live way out there… You never know what might happen. Yall need someone to call in town, okay? Here, take my number too, young man.”

Kyungsoo took the piece of paper, a mess of numbers scrawled across it.

“Call me if yall ever need anything.”

“Aww, Mr. Kim, we’ll be alright. My boy is strong!” Kyungsoo’s mother exclaimed.   
  
She wiped a pale thumb over her son’s cheek, and Kyungsoo chuckled at her response, willing himself not to move away from her hand. It was freezing.

Kyungsoo’s mother fell asleep as soon as they got in the truck. He couldn’t wait to turn off the tape, and he found himself fumbling with the radio knob until the sound of saxophone and piano filled his ears. Turning the volume down, Kyungsoo decided to take the long way home.

It wasn’t everyday he could drive in relative peace or past Jongin’s house.


	3. Dazzle Me

Kyungsoo smiled once he hung up the phone. His ink had finally arrived.

All week, Kyungsoo stared at his typewriter as the snow fell behind the window, and he sighed his days away as his new found muse nestled into every corner of his brain. Well, technically, only five days had passed, but it seemed so much longer.

The urge to write was stronger than ever before. Kyungsoo had even pulled out a notebook to jot down ideas, but he’d always stop midway through planning. He wanted to write everything using his typewriter.

Kyungsoo wished he could go and pick up the ink right then and there, but he knew his mother was in no mood to leave the house. Leaving the house was not in her routine. Twirling the phone cord, Kyungsoo tried to figure out a way to go get the ink before their next outing.

 

“Mom, I need to run to town and grab something really fast,” Kyungsoo said as he walked toward the door.

“What? No, you can’t go!” His mother yelled from the living room.

Kyungsoo heard her getting up from her spot on the couch. It was worth a try, he thought.

“Mom, please. It’ll be really quick. I’ll be back before you know it.”

“No, Kyungsoo. It can wait,” she replied as her fingers crawled into the knit of Kyungsoo’s sweater.

Kyungsoo almost jerked away, but he knew better.

“Mom, I’ll be really quick. I promise.”

“No! I said you can’t leave me, Kyungsoo,” she said, her fingers tightening on his arm, her long fingernails digging into his skin.

“I’m not going to leave you... Okay? I won’t go. I'm not going,” Kyungsoo said, defeated.

He brought a hand up to her face and cupped her cheek.

“Sit here while I get you some tea. We’ll sit in front of the fireplace, and I’ll be right here,” he continued, leading her back to the couch.

“Are you sure?” she said, her eyes filled with a thousand unshed tears as she looked up at Kyungsoo.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered, tucking her legs under the knit afghan.  _Because you won’t let me._

Kyungsoo was fuming when he went into the kitchen to warm up the tea. Kyungsoo hardly got angry, but he really wanted to write.

His hand shook when he went to grab a teacup from the cupboard. Was he really asking for too much? He wondered. Kyungsoo pursed his lips as the white cup swirled inside the microwave, going round and round like he was in this thing he called his life. When the microwave dinged, an idea flashed in his mind.

Kyungsoo went to the cupboard above the stove and opened it. Grabbing a small white bottle, Kyungsoo eyed it, turning it in his hands. After a few moments, he sighed, moving to put the bottle back, but he froze midway. It wouldn’t hurt if he put in half a tablet, he thought as he unscrewed the top. He’d be quick.

“Here, Mother,” Kyungsoo said, his heart pounding as he handed over the warm cup of tea.

“Thank you, Kyungsoo- _ah._ ”

Kyungsoo went over to the fire and poked at it with the metal poker, tiny orange embers flew upward.

“Sit by me.”

Kyungsoo sat beside his mother, wrapping his arms around her when she leaned into him. They stared at the fire in silence before he noticed her nodding off.

“Let me take your cup,” Kyungsoo suggested as he gently pried the cup out of her hands.

“Thank you,” she said before nodding completely off.

Kyungsoo froze. Only after a few moments did he dare to move.

“Mother?”

Nothing. Only silence and the crackle of firewood remained. Kyungsoo slowly got up and laid his mother’s head on the armrest and moved her legs onto the couch. He then laid the afghan on her before stepping back. Kyungsoo felt bad and contemplated not leaving, but it was too late he decided as he grabbed a coat before going out into the cold.

 

Kyungsoo didn’t know how it happened, but he found himself in front of Jongin’s house, walking up the three stairs to the vast porch. He knocked on the door, his knuckle grazing the wood. Kyungsoo wasn’t sure if he wanted Jongin to answer. He didn’t even know if he had a question.

After a few moments of silence, Kyungsoo knocked again, ready to leave if no one answered this time, but just as he slipped his hands back into his pockets, the door rattled before slowly opening. Kyungsoo was met with a middle aged woman with slightly curly hair.

“Hi, may I help you?”

“Hello,” Kyungsoo said bowing. “My name is Kyungsoo, and I was wondering if Jongin was home?”

“Ah, Jongin? I’m his mother, nice to meet you.”

Kyungsoo bowed again, but not before he saw the same sunny smile Jongin had.

“He’s home. Just one moment.”

“Jongin, a friend is here to see you! He said his name is Kyungsoo!”

Kyungsoo flinched at the raise in volume but smiled back as best he could.

“Would you like to come in, Kyungsoo?”

“Uh, I’m okay. I’ll wait out here. Thank you.”

“Alright, he’ll be down soon, Honey,” she said with a sweet smile, and Kyungsoo was jealous.

Turning around, Kyungsoo exhaled into the clean air as he waited. He didn’t have to wait long because he heard the doorknob jiggle, and he turned to see Jongin appear from behind the door.

“Hey, Kyungsoo.”

“Hi...”

“What brings you here?” Jongin asked, crossing his arms as he leaned against the door frame.

Kyungsoo faltered at Jongin's question and the twinkle in his brown eyes.

“Uh, I was wondering if you wanted to go to town with me. I have to pick something up, and um… that is if you aren’t busy or anything.”

Kyungsoo wanted to roll down the steps all the way back to his house.

“Sure, just let me grab my coat.”

Kyungsoo’s raised his eyebrows. It was that easy, he asked himself as Jongin returned, smile wide and eyes already on the road.

 

“So, what did you need to pick up?”

“Oh, um, ink for my typewriter. The order arrived.”

“Oh, yeah! I forgot you were a writer,” Jongin replied, a playful smile on his face as he looked over at Kyungsoo.

Kyungsoo blushed. “I’m not a writer…”

“No, you're not. Not yet,” Jongin said as they continued west.

“Aren’t you going to put on some music?” Kyungsoo asked as they rode in silence.

“Hmmm… I can, but what do you usually listen to? No, wait. Let me guess.”

“A country boy that's way too trusting, chooses to defend himself with a plate if being robbed, and refuses to wear a coat in freezing weather.”

Kyungsoo flushed profusely. That’s not it at all, he thought.

“But… that’s not all,” Jongin said, almost as if reading Kyungsoo’s thoughts.

“Hides behind soup cans, cares a lot for his mother, and insists he isn’t a writer, but here we are driving all the way into town for ink…,” Jongin finished as he looked over at Kyungsoo.

Kyungsoo struggled to meet Jongin’s eyes, but he did so anyway.

“Kyungsoo doesn’t listen to music, am I right?” Jongin finished, a hint of an indentation in his left cheek.

Kyungsoo balked. “I do too listen to music! What are you talking about? I like… I like 80’s music!”

Kyungsoo realized he fell for the ruse when the smirk returned to Jongin’s face as they neared the town, and he sulked as Jongin reached over to fumble with the radio.

“Here’s your 80’s music, bad boy,” Jongin remarked as synths and guitars filled the truck.

Kyungsoo did like 80’s music, but he wouldn’t admit he often sat in his truck listening to the R’n’B radio station late at night. He wouldn’t admit that new habit to Jongin at all.

 

“So, this is what typewriter ink looks like,” Jongin mused as they left the bookstore.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“What do you mean you guess so?”

“I… uh… I’ve never changed the ink before,” Kyungsoo answered, glad he could blame his blush on the cold.

“Really?” Jongin asked, chuckling. “I guess you weren’t lying when you said you weren’t a writer.”

Kyungsoo dipped his head low.

“We should go look up how to change the ink in the library,” Jongin suggested as he pocketed the rolls of ink.

Kyungsoo looked at his watch. He should have time, he thought as they crossed the street.

 

Kyungsoo smoothed a pale finger across the spines, some thin, some thick, some with gold lettering, and others with barely there remnants of. It had been such a long time since Kyungsoo had been in the library.

“So, we have to go to the mezzanine.”

“Oh, okay,” Kyungsoo said as he followed Jongin to the back of the library.

 

“You sure you know where we are going?” Kyungsoo asked, his mind in a whirlwind as bookshelf after bookshelf appeared before his eyes. They had been weaving in and out of shelves for what seemed like hours. Kyungsoo was getting dizzy.

“No, not really. I think we are lost,” Jongin replied as they emerged from yet another identical set of shelves.

Kyungsoo sighed. At least he was honest, he thought, but then his face came crashing into something entirely too soft and extremely warm, and Kyungsoo wanted to stay there for a while.

“Oh, sorry!” Jongin replied, turning around way too soon for Kyungsoo’s liking.

Kyungsoo ducked his head and brought a hand up to his nose.

“Are you okay?” Jongin asked as he lifted Kyungsoo’s chin with a warm hand. Kyungsoo looked into Jongin’s brown eyes, the ones that were currently looking at him with concern.

“Yes, I’m alright,” Kyungsoo replied, his eyes shifting to beside them.

“Oh, here’s a book we can use,” Kyungsoo exclaimed, sighing in relief when Jongin loosened the grip on his chin.

 

The two boy’s hauled eight really old looking books to a secluded table in the library.

“Why don’t you have a library card again?” Jongin replied, sitting the books down with a loud thud.

“I don’t read,” Kyungsoo replied as he sat his stack of books down without making a sound.

It wasn’t a lie, but he couldn’t tell Jongin that the reason he didn't have a library card was because of his mother. She'd never let him return the books on time.

“Alright. Well, let’s try to figure this out,” Jongin said as he sat down in the wooden chair.

Kyungsoo mirrored the taller male, but then laughed when Jongin opened his book and a burst of dust dispersed into the air.

They both laughed as Jongin coughed. Kyungsoo put a finger in front of his mouth as he began searching through his own book. They were in a library after all.

 

After searching through three books, Kyungsoo was beginning to become disheartened. However, after flipping to a random page in the fourth book, he believed he had found just what he needed.

“Oh, maybe this is it? Kyungsoo said, eyeing a diagram of a typewriter.

Kyungsoo heard Jongin get up from his side of the table.

“Mmm, looks like it might be.”

Kyungsoo jumped at the voice in his ear. He stiffened as Jongin reached over his shoulder to flip a few pages ahead. Kyungsoo remained silent as Jongin studied the diagrams and explanations. Instead of talking, Kyungsoo tried to concentrate on not leaning into the warmth, into the heady aroma.

“Are you remembering this?”

Kyungsoo startled at the question. “Uh, yeah. I’m trying. It’s a lot to remember though.”

“How about you remember the first half, I’ll remember the second half, and we’ll change the ink together?” Jongin suggested, his voice not much louder than a whisper.

All Kyungsoo could do was nod his agreement as the diagram with its multiple lines and numbers came into focus.

 

“I like this song, “ Kyungsoo remarked, smiling as he looked out of the window. There was white as far as he could see.

“Yeah? It’s one of my favorites,” Jongin replied, turning the volume up.

Kyungsoo insisted they listen to Jongin’s kind of music on the way back (since it was only fair). Kyungsoo leaned his head back as he let the music consume him. He closed his eyes as the car smoothly rode on. The next thing he knew Jongin was nudging him slightly.

“We’re here, sleepy head,” Kyungsoo heard Jongin say as he opened his eyes a bit.

Jongin’s face slowly came into view, his brown hair slightly falling into one eye.

Kyungsoo jerked awake.

“Woah, slow down,” Jongin said, chuckling.

“I gotta get home,” Kyungsoo replied as he fumbled with his seat belt.

“Is everything okay?” Jongin asked as he unclasped his own seatbelt.

“No…,” Kyungsoo said, but he immediately retracted it. “I mean, yeah. Everything is fine.”

“Are you sure?” Jongin asked. His eyes were trained on Kyungsoo.

Kyungsoo gave up when he couldn’t undo his seatbelt.

“It’s complicated, Jongin,” Kyungsoo confessed, falling back against the seat.

“I’m good with math. If that helps,” Jongin replied as he reached over and released Kyungsoo’s seat belt, the click loud in the warm vehicle.

Kyungsoo wanted to laugh or cry or both. If only his life were a series of math equations waiting to be solved. Things would be a lot simpler. Maybe then he'd have a chance.

“Thanks for coming with me today, Jongin,” Kyungsoo spoke up as he grasped the door handle. “I really appreciate it.”

“Any time, Kyungsoo,” Jongin said as he too got out of the truck.

“I’ll see you later,” Kyungsoo said fumbling with his keys. His heart was pounding when he slipped into the driver seat.

Kyungsoo waved to Jongin once more as he pulled out of the driveway, nearly backing into Jongin’s truck on the way out.

 

Kyungsoo thought it’d be best to go in through the back door. Stilling himself, he forced the back door open. He could pretend he had just been out back if she had woken up while he was gone.

Peeking from behind the wood, Kyungsoo peered into the kitchen, but he wasn’t welcomed to screaming, crying, tears, or anything. Kyungsoo panicked, toeing off his shoes.

He slipped his light jacket off as he walked down the short hallway, and he slowed as he reached the doorway to the living room. Kyungsoo nearly collapsed on the floor, but he leaned against doorway instead. His mother was still asleep.  He ran a hand through his hair, which came away slightly damp with melted snow. Closing his eyes, Kyungsoo leaned his head against the plaster.

After a few moments of trying to calm down, Kyungsoo turned to hang his jacket up. He went to reach into his pocket, but then it dawned on him that Jongin still had the ink ribbons. The irony of it all.

Going back to the kitchen, Kyungsoo decided to start dinner. He hadn’t even realized how hungry he was until the adrenaline wore off. He hadn’t eaten all day.

 

“Good night, Mother.”

“Good night, Baby. Are we going to the store tomorrow? To pick up that thing you need?”

“No, Mother. It can wait,” Kyungsoo replied. A twinge of guilt washed over him as he flipped off the light and shut the door.

 

Kyungsoo walked up the stairs to his room, and he laid down on his bed to let the food settle in his stomach. Memories from earlier played behind his closed eyelids. He was so inside his own head that he startled when he heard a tick then a tack noise. Kyungsoo’s eyes flew open.

He stilled, until the tack sounded again. Kyungsoo turned his head toward the noise. It was coming from the window.

Kyungsoo sat up and eased from the bed. He tip-toed over to the window behind his desk, and he looked out of it, bracing himself for a bat to come flying toward his face or something. But no, there was just a figure standing below, the black silhouette cloaked in blue stark against the white snow. Kyungsoo gaped.

“Jongin?” he whispered into the black air.

“Come down!” Jongin replied, his whisper louder than Kyungsoo’s.

Kyungsoo ran down two flights of stairs to the backdoor as quietly as he could.

 

“Jongin! What are you doing here?” he asked, the scene from the first day they met replaying itself.

“I don’t know. I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” Jongin replied, his face half lit by the moonlight.

Kyungsoo stilled. “What?”

“Just kidding. I just thought that this would all make for a good scene in your book. Romantic, isn't it?”

Kyungsoo gaped.

“Alright. Alright. I just came to give you your ink ribbons,” Jongin replied, sticking out his hand to reveal three ribbon spools.

Kyungsoo wouldn’t consider himself violent, but he never wanted to push someone before as much as he did Jongin right now.

“Here,” Jongin said, thrusting his hand forward again.

Kyungsoo stared at the spools of ink.

“No, since you went through all the trouble to give them to me, we’re going to change them now,” Kyungsoo replied as he locked the backdoor.

“Sure,” Jongin said as Kyungsoo put a finger in front of his lips.

Jongin pantomimed zipping a zipper across his mouth and throwing away the key. Kyungsoo tried not to crack a smile as he motioned for Jongin to follow him.

The two ascended the stairs until they reached the top floor. Kyungsoo's heart was beating fast. No one had ever been up to his room before. It's not like he was a messy person or anything, but this was his room.

“Nice.”

“Thanks. I like it up here.”

Kyungsoo watched Jongin take in the entire room as he slipped off his navy blue peacoat. Kyungsoo took the warm material from Jongin, and laid it on his bed before going back to look at Jongin explore his room. There wasn't much to see, just a single bed, a desk, a wooden bookshelf and a matching bureau. There was also a single poster above the bed of some constellations. Kyungsoo didn't know which ones.

Jongin's brown eyes finally landed on the typewriter sitting on the desk.

“Wait. This looks familiar,” Jongin said approaching the machine.

His fingers smoothed over the metal before he pushed the ‘k’ button. The button went down before rising. It was a beat slower than all the rest.

“Where did you get this?”

“I… I found it…” Kyungsoo replied. “At your house…”

Jongin looked back at Kyungsoo with a wide smile.

“This is my grandfather’s typewriter. He used to let me play with it as a child, and I broke the ‘k’ key from pounding on it so much.”

“Really!? Oh, I’m sorry! I thought it was abandoned. You can take it back. I’m so sorry,” Kyungsoo said. He felt terrible.

Jongin closed the space between them, standing less than a foot away from Kyungsoo.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jongin said, looking directly into Kyungsoo’s eyes.

“My grandfather died a few years ago, and my grandmother wanted to get rid of it because it reminded her too much of him,” he continued, backing up to turn back to the typewriter.

“She said she could hear the tapping of the keys all night. It was driving her crazy, she said. But now she’s gone too…”

“I’m so sorry,” Kyungsoo said, rooted to his spot when he heard the  _ticka-ticka_  sound fill their silence. He hadn't expected Jongin to open up to him like that.

“Don’t be.”

“Do you want it back?”

Kyungsoo didn’t want to give up the typewriter, but it wasn’t rightfully his anyway. Jongin closed the space remaining between them again, this time grabbing Kyungsoo’s wrist and pulling him toward the typewriter. Kyungsoo let himself be led, and let Jongin place his hands over the cold keys. Kyungsoo held his breath when Jongin pressed up against his back. He let out a slow shaky breath when he felt a weight on his shoulder, his black hair ruffling up against Jongin's brown strands.

“No, I don’t want it back. It’s yours now,” Jongin whispered as they both looked down at the machine.

Kyungsoo couldn’t help but tilt his head away from the rush of warm air against his skin, causing him to press down on a key too hard. The  _tick_  sound was deafening.

Jongin let out a breathy laugh before pulling back, and Kyungsoo wanted to follow him.

“Think of it as my investment toward your career,” Jongin said with a smirk as he sat down on Kyungsoo’s bed.

“Promise me you’ll write something amazing,” Jongin continued, lying back on the pale comforter. “Dazzle me.”

Kyungsoo promised he’d try. But Jongin was pretty dazzling already.


	4. Click

Kyungsoo submerged underwater and only opened his eyes when his head came in light contact with the cold porcelain. He watched the water ripple above him, making the round light fixture on the ceiling look distorted. He pursed his lips when a few air bubbles escaped from his mouth. They rushed to the surface, bursting once they made contact with the air.

Kyungsoo closed his eyes, succumbing to the weightlessness, the timelessness, as he ignored the burning in his lungs. He had learned to always look out for himself, never to succumb to anything or anyone else, but he’d succumb to this. Even if it only lasted 45 seconds.  Tops.

When it became too painful, when his lungs were screaming for air, like the bubbles that had escaped before, Kyungsoo sat up and took a huge breath of air as he grasped the sides of the white tub. The water sloshed around him, and his black hair was plastered to his head, thin and shiny. Kyungsoo loved that part, the part when he broke the surface and took his first breath in nearly a minute. It gave him such a rush.

He swept his hair out of his eyes as he leaned against the back of the tub. Lifting his hand out of the water periodically, Kyungsoo watched the droplets slip through his fingers down into the bluish water. Streaks of black and blue on his wrist caught his eye. He let a small smile form on his moist lips as the reel in his mind displayed images of the night before.

He and Jongin managed to change the ink in his typewriter, but only after realizing that he forgot step two, and Jongin forgot step four.

+

“You’re the smart one, Kyungsoo,” Jongin commented as they sat Indian style on the floor, the typewriter between them.

They managed to remove the top casing of the machine, its soul bared to the world, but that was as far as Kyungsoo could remember. Kyungsoo looked up at Jongin to be met with a playful stare. Jongin was always playing.

“How do you figure I’m the smart one?”

And Kyungsoo frowned slightly when all Jongin did was smile and pick up one of the new boxes of ink. The blue one.

 

“I’ve never read a book with blue ink. You should use the blue ink,” Jongin said as he unraveled the ink spools. They looked like film reels.

Kyungsoo nodded absentmindedly as he stared at the open typewriter, wracking his brain for step two and three. He decided the only logical thing to do was remove the spools, but then Jongin was wrapping a hand around his wrist and squeezing tight.

Kyungsoo stared at the tanned hand around his wrist, but then Jongin was letting go just as Kyungsoo was getting used to the heat. He turned his wrist over to find five neat blue fingerprints.

“Hey!” Kyungsoo exclaimed, rubbing his other hand across the stained skin. It didn’t smudge or blur.

“They look cool.”

Kyungsoo didn’t want to admit that he agreed and instead just stared at the ink marks. They were so small, and yet so prominent, so loud, against the pale of his skin.

“Here,” Kyungsoo heard Jongin say as he held out his own forearm.

Kyungsoo stared at the sandy colored skin, not a spot in sight except for millions of fine black hairs all facing in one direction. Kyungsoo placed his fingers on the outstretched band of inked ribbon before wrapping his hand around Jongin’s arm. His arm was so warm Kyungsoo could feel the cold in his hands dissipating as Jongin’s warmth radiated outward.

“Harder.”

Kyungsoo squeezed harder but not too hard. Kyungsoo was never fond of touching, never fond of physically connecting with others. After a few heartbeats, Kyungsoo let go.

“Beautiful.”

Kyungsoo blushed as Jongin beamed down at his fingerprint tattoo. There were four nearly perfect oval circles all in row with one on the opposite side.

“How about we do one more?”

Kyungsoo nodded his head as Jongin crawled over to his side of the typewriter. He didn’t know what Jongin had planned when he was told to take off his shirt, but he obeyed.

“You’ll love it. I promise.”

Kyungsoo moved to cross his arms around his chest as he shivered before the other male. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. Maybe he should've declined. Kyungsoo became self-conscious and withered under the intense stare, but then Jongin was stopping him, a soft hand on his newly speckled forearm.

“Don’t," Jongin murmured, staring at the expanse of skin before him.

Kyungsoo reluctantly let his arms drop to his side as his heart fought valiantly in his chest.

“Close your eyes.”

And Kyungsoo did, succumbing to Jongin and the darkness behind each eyelid.

+

Kyungsoo looked down at his chest, slick with water, but the temporary tattoo was still there in its original condition. He traced it. It went from his left shoulder down to his right hip. Kyungsoo thought back to when he first saw it as he lathered up to wash.

+

“Done,” Jongin whispered as he leaned back to admire his work. "Open your eyes."

Kyungsoo opened his eyes, squinting at the bright light. His legs were beginning to go numb and his back was stiff from trying not to move away from every gentle poke and soft stroke of Jongin’s fingertips against his skin. But Kyungsoo was more concerned with what Jongin may have done to him than he was about his body aches.

“What do you think?”

Kyungsoo stood up on shaky legs and walked over to the mirror attached to the back of his door. His mouth dropped when he saw what Jongin had done. He moved closer to the mirror and traced a series of thin lines with methodically placed dots. It was the constellation from the poster on his wall.

“How…” Kyungsoo asked, still staring at the temporary tattoo. “It’s beautiful. How did you…”

Jongin chuckled before getting up and walking over to Kyungsoo.

“I told you you’d love it.”

+

Kyungsoo thought about how they spent the rest of the night taking Polaroid’s of their new tattoos at various angles, under the light and against the shadows. Kyungsoo wondered about the real Jongin as he rinsed off. He was as transparent as he was mysterious, quiet as he was loud, and it only made Kyungsoo want to know more.

When Kyungsoo finished, he pulled the plug in the drain and watched the water swirl away from him before getting out and toweling off.  He felt refreshed. It was rare he got to take a bath since he only ever had time for quick showers.

Sighing as he put on a clean sweater, inevitably covering his new markings, Kyungsoo saw a hint of a smile in the mirror before he walked out to make breakfast. It had been such a long time since he saw one of those.

 

At twelve noon, Kyungsoo announced to his mother that he was going out to get firewood. She nodded her head a bit at the news, nibbling on her bottom lip from her seat on couch.

“I’ll be back soon. I promise,” Kyungsoo said as he brought her a cup of tea. Kyungsoo’s mother never went with him out into the woods. She didn’t like it. She said it gave her bad vibes, so she allowed Kyungsoo to go gather firewood once a week.

“Get some rest, okay?” Kyungsoo said as he smoothed a loose strand behind her ear. She smiled up at him.

“Do you have your compass? Don’t get lost, Kyungsoo,” his mother said worrying her blanket between her hands, the veins prominent under her smooth white skin due to years of fighting herself.

Kyungsoo reached into his pocket and removed a tarnished gold compass that he received from his father when he was younger. He showed it to her before putting it back.

“I won’t get lost, Mother. I'm not going far,” he said, leaning down to kiss her on the forehead.

 

Kyungsoo walked out of the backdoor, closing it tight behind him. He surveyed the back area with squinted eyes, long eyelashes grazing the skin underneath. The sun was high. Its rays casted silver, gold, and white across the snow, and it looked beautiful, like a million crystals.

Kyungsoo looked over at their wood supply, and he figured if he were fast, he could gather everything he needed in an hour or so.

“Hey,” Kyungsoo heard from his left. He smiled.

“Hi,” Kyungsoo replied as he looked over at Jongin who was wearing a red peacoat this time. “Ready?”

“Always.”

 

“You’re telling me you’ve never been hiking before?”

“No. Never had the desire to,” Jongin replied as he tried to keep up with Kyungsoo.

“It’s really fun. It helps me relax my mind,” Kyungsoo said as he moved a snow covered branch out of the way and held it for Jongin.

“I prefer to relax my mind another way,” Jongin replied, ducking under the branch.

“And how is that?” Kyungsoo asked, amused.

“You probably wouldn’t approve of it.”

Kyungsoo chuckled. “You’re probably right.”

Kyungsoo smiled when they had finally reached his favorite trunk. It was covered with snow, but he could still recognize it. He walked over to it and began wiping the snow away.

“This is my favorite spot in the entire forest,” he replied as he wiped the last of the snow off of it. “I like to sit here and just think,” he continued, taking a long whiff of crisp winter air.

Kyungsoo opened his eyes to see Jongin looking at him with an amused look on his face. Kyungsoo willed himself not to color. He had never shown anyone this spot before. Though, in all honestly, Kyungsoo never had anyone to show this spot to before even if he wanted to. He never wanted to until now.

Kyungsoo shrugged off Jongin’s amused stare, and looked back at the stump.

“You know, if you count these rings, you can tell how old the tree is.”

“How old is it?” Jongin asked, smoothing a gloved hand over the trunk.

“I don’t know. Why don’t you count and find out,” Kyungsoo said with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

He smiled when a determined look crossed Jongin’s face as he bent over and began to count. Kyungsoo pulled out his polaroid camera from his backpack and snapped a picture, or two, or three.

Kyungsoo laughed out loud when Jongin shouted out his latest answer. “82!” Click.

“Nope,” Kyungsoo said leaning on a nearby tree.

“I give up. Fuck it,” Jongin said, kicking at the snow. Click.

“We should go exploring. I’ve never been further than this.”

“You haven’t?” Jongin asked with a raised eyebrow.

Kyungsoo shook his head.

“Really? Seems like you’d know this place like the back of your hand,” Jongin said sitting down on the stump, a hiss coming from his mouth when his bottom made contact with the frozen trunk.

“I’ve always wanted to but never got the chance,” Kyungsoo replied as he focused the polaroid camera on Jongin.

He was looking upward at the sunlight being filtered between thousands of branches. Click.

“Well, let’s go,” Jongin said, staring right into the lens. Click.

Kyungsoo’s eyes widened as he lowered the camera. “Really?”

“Yeah. Come on.”

Kyungsoo smiled and took out his compass from his pocket. He was just about to ask Jongin which way they should go, but then the compass was being snatched from his hand, and Jongin was already walking forward.

Kyungsoo snapped a picture of Jongin’s back against the white, brown, and the last vestiges of green, before trying to catch up. Click.

 

The two weaved through trees, jumped over broken limbs, and walked through large patches of snowless ground where the trees stood huddled together. Kyungsoo wondered if the trees were warmer under their blankets of snow, or if they were colder because of it.

“What?” Kyungsoo asked when he noticed Jongin had stopped.

“Look at that,” Jongin said, his finger pointing straight ahead.

Kyungsoo followed the finger with his eyes, and he too stopped walking.

“Do you think someone lives there?” Jongin asked, though he was already moving toward the small cabin.

“Jongin, we shouldn’t!” Kyungsoo whispered as he jogged to catch up with Jongin.

“Shhh,” Jongin replied as he cupped his hands to look into one of the windows.

Despite Kyungsoo's reservations, he was in awe. He never knew this place existed. How could he when he wasn’t allowed nearly twenty feet away from his mother at all times? His eyes roamed over the tiny place, frozen in space and time. It was made entirely out of wood, and it looked like something out of a movie.

“Doesn’t look like anyone is home,” Jongin said as he looked back at Kyungsoo. “What? Are you scared?” Jongin continued, a slight taunt in his voice.

Kyungsoo shook his head from side to side. It was a lie. He was terrified, but not at someone living there and coming out to chase them away. He was terrified because he felt like he never wanted to leave this place. It was perfect.

“Look, the door isn’t locked.”

Kyungsoo walked forward, resting a hand on Jongin’s back as he followed him into the darkness.

Although there were no lights, the minimal sunlight was enough for the boys to get a decent look at the space. It was just one room with a tattered couch and a table and two chairs inside. It seemed like it had been abandoned for a while, as there was absolutely nothing else inside. There was a fireplace against one of the walls, and an empty cupboard with broken doors against another.

“This is so cool. I love it,” Kyungsoo said as he walked around the space, placing his camera and compass on the wooden table.

Jongin chuckled. “What is there to love about it? It’s cold, damp, dirty, and musky.”

Kyungsoo furrowed his brows. What’s not to love? It’s a space made just for one, he thought. He pictured himself sitting by the fire or typing near the window. It was like a time capsule, a place where time stopped, and it didn’t matter because you were alone.

“If you like it so much, you should come back here sometime then,” Jongin suggested as he leaned up against the door frame.

Kyungsoo heard the click of his Polaroid before he turned around.

“Yeah, but it’s probably someone else’s place,” Kyungsoo said as he came crashing back down to earth.

“So?” Click. “No one is here now, and it’s not too far from your house.”

Kyungsoo nodded, still unconvinced.

“Hey, since we’re cleaning out my Grandmother’s house, we’re throwing out a lot of furniture. We can bring some stuff here to decorate.”

“Really?” Kyungsoo asked, his big, black eyes trained on Jongin. Click.

“Really.”

Kyungsoo didn't know what came over him, but he walked over to Jongin and wrapped his arms around him, but then he was backing up just as quick.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me,” Kyungsoo said, blushing as he looked down at his hands, which were cold from being outside for so long. Click.

“No problem,” Jongin replied. A small smile formed on his lips before handing over Kyungsoo’s compass and camera. “I think it’s time we head back though.”

Kyungsoo nodded as he turned around to look at the barren place again. Was it okay to disturb its loneliness, it’s peace, its tranquility?

 

Kyungsoo was still slightly embarrassed about the unwarranted hug he gave Jongin, but his good mood didn’t leave him even when he spent another half hour gathering wood (and a little more for the cabin), nor did his smile dim when his mother bickered with him when she saw all of the ink stains on his arm.

All Kyungsoo could think about was that place deep in the heart of the woods. He even tried to look for it from his desk as he typed in front of his small window. But all Kyungsoo could make out were the tops of trees blanketed with fresh snow for miles.

Kyungsoo went back to looking at the paper in front of him. He didn’t think he’d like typing in blue ink at first because he was much more accustomed to black. Black was all he knew, and he liked to think the color gave the words on the page more authority, made things more official. But the blue ink brought the words to life, filled them with vivacity, vibrant against the stark white background. Blue was rebellious, he thought as his machine dinged. It made him never want to stop writing.

Kyungsoo smiled as he pushed the platen to the right to begin a new line, the last line of the day. He and Jongin made plans to go back tomorrow, and for the first time Kyungsoo was excited to wake up.

Later that night, after all was hushed and cleared, Kyungsoo slipped into bed like he always did, set his alarm like he always did, but no matter how hard he tried, he could not sleep. He stayed up all night drawing plans on the white ceiling with soot colored eyes, thinking of the possibilities of his new found haven. How he wanted it to look, what he wanted to do when he got there, and who he wanted to be there with. Maybe it didn’t have to be a place made for one, Kyungsoo concluded. Maybe.

Kyungsoo hadn’t let his mind wander that far in a long time, and it scared him. He didn’t want to dust his hopes off, but he couldn’t help it. He had never been so excited for the future because he wasn’t allowed. The future had never existed for him --until now.


	5. Etherized

Kyungsoo sat at the table in the cabin looking at the Polaroids he and Jongin took over the past few days.

“It doesn’t look so bad now,” Jongin said, lounging on the small couch.

Kyungsoo hummed in reply as he sorted through the pictures. Jongin was right. They had spent the past week decorating the place, and it looked ten times better than before, more than Kyungsoo could have ever imagined.

They put curtains on the windows, and Kyungsoo had brought his typewriter and sat it neatly on the lone table. He’d sit there for hours typing as Jongin lounged on the small couch drawing, or whatever it was Jongin did when no one was looking.

Jongin had also brought a small side table and bought candles and candle holders. Kyungsoo was grateful because it was hard for him to get out and buy things, especially since he was starting to suspect his mother knew something was up. Using we “ran out of firewood” wasn’t going to cut it anymore.

 

“Thanks a lot,” Kyungsoo said as he stood up from the table. He really meant it.

“No problem. Oh, I got you some things from town today,” Jongin replied, sitting up from the couch and moving to grab his book bag.

Kyungsoo wondered what it could be as he sat down beside Jongin. The fire was roaring in the fireplace across from them, and Kyungsoo looked at it, almost mesmerized, as Jongin rummaged around in his bag.

“I got you these,” Jongin said, handing over several cans of food.

Kyungsoo snorted as he reached out to grab them.

“Yeah, you never know if you’ll get stranded out here one day.”

“And this too…” Jongin continued as he pulled out four heavy looking books, a smile on his face.

Kyungsoo’s eyes went big as he was handed the books.

“You shouldn’t have….”

“I wanted to. Plus, my friend just dropped out of college, and he doesn’t need them anymore.”

Kyungsoo swiped a hand over one of the covers. It read,  _A Guide to Writing and Storytelling_. He looked up at Jongin with slightly watery eyes.

“Think of it as another investment in your career,” Jongin said, setting his book bag on the floor.

Kyungsoo looked down at the books, the titles were blurry. It had been such a long time since he had received a present, or anything for that matter. It had been such a long time since someone believed in him or given him a chance.

“Thank you…,” Kyungsoo said, flipping open one of the books. “But… But why? Why do you think I’m going to be a writer…? I can’t… I’m nothing…,” Kyungsoo said, his self-esteem plummeting when he looked through the book and found he couldn’t understand a thing. The words and glossy charts made him dizzy, and the words swirled in his mind and blurred before his eyes. It was all so overwhelming

“Don’t talk like that. You might not realize it, but you’re everything to someone,” Jongin said, scooting forward to rub circles on Kyungsoo’s back.

Kyungsoo didn’t believe Jongin, but he appreciated the attempt to make him feel better. After closing the book, Kyungsoo moved to get up, but Jongin was pulling him down by wrapping an arm around his shoulder.

“Come on. Let’s take a break and rest for a while.”

Kyungsoo stiffened in Jongin’s tight embrace, but he relaxed and laid his head on Jongin’s shoulder. Closing his eyes, Kyungsoo took the weight of his world off of his back and let the heady smell of smoked wood and Jongin’s light scent fill his nose. Jongin chuckled into Kyungsoo’s hair.

“You okay?”

Kyungsoo made a noncommittal noise while nodding his head. He let Jongin bring him down as they leaned against the cracked leather. They squeezed onto the small couch, their legs entangling before Kyungsoo rested his head on Jongin’s clothed chest. The cotton was soft against his cheek, and never in a million years did Kyungsoo think he’d be lying here, right now, like this, and with another guy.

Kyungsoo was surprised that he wasn’t running away, wasn’t pushing Jongin off. But everything felt natural; all of it, even the fingers playing along his arm.

Lifting his head, Kyungsoo snuck a peak at Jongin’s face. His eyes were closed, and his long black eyelashes rested against his cheeks. The glow from the fire made him look even more tan than usual, more alive. Kyungsoo was glad winter didn’t take Jongin like it did him.

“Are  _you_  okay?”

When Jongin’s eyelids fluttered open, Kyungsoo visibly swallowed. Jongin was staring right at him with his deep brown eyes and maybe it was just the light from the fire, but they looked lighter than usual.

Without thinking, Kyungsoo leaned forward to rest his lips on Jongin’s. Kyungsoo didn't know what came over him as he pressed forward. Maybe it was Jongin's warm body, or the dancing shadows and flickers of yellow and red in deep brown eyes, but all he knew was that he couldn't stop himself from falling against the other male, and though his heart was beating wildly, Kyungsoo couldn’t help but linger against the softness. Their very first kiss

“I am now,” Jongin replied against Kyungsoo's mouth before closing the space between them.

Kyungsoo’s fingers bunched into Jongin’s shirt as his mind raced alongside his heart. As if underwater, his lungs were screaming for air, but he didn’t care. He just wanted his first breath after this to be Jongin’s. And when Kyungsoo was finally allowed to inhale, his feverish forehead resting against another, he believed Jongin’s exhale had to be one of the purest things he had ever held within him aside from his own soul. But before Kyungsoo could catch up with himself, Jongin was bringing him in for another kiss.

Their lips locked and tongues ached to explore each other’s mouths for the first time. Kyungsoo was the first to part his lips, the first to let Jongin in, and he couldn’t stop the desperate and embarrassing moan from slipping out. He was becoming dizzy with lust, and the world spun behind his close eyelids as Jongin’s fingers laced into his shiny black hair. It was everything he never knew he wanted or needed. When they finally pulled apart, Kyungsoo was pleading for air, but he chased plump lips as Jongin pulled away, his own bottom lip in between Jongin's white teeth. It was almost as if Jongin didn’t want to let go, and Kyungsoo blushed under Jongin’s hooded gaze.

“What’s wrong?” Jongin asked, a hand smoothing down Kyungsoo’s face, his thumb brushing Kyungsoo’s plump bottom lip.  “You don’t like it?”

Kyungsoo shook his head from side to side as his chest heaved underneath the thick material. That wasn’t it at all. Kissing Jongin was probably the most exciting thing that he had ever experienced since he had moved to the countryside. Forbidden, thrilling, and he tasted so good. Kyungsoo didn’t like it; he loved it, and probably more than he would ever admit.

“You’ve never done this before, is that it?”

Kyungsoo’s face reddened slightly.

“Cute,” Jongin commented as he pulled Kyungsoo down into the crook of his neck, and Kyungsoo thought he had to be one of the luckiest guys on Earth.

But then he knew his luck ran out when, a few days later, his mother saw him and Jongin returning from the cabin one evening.

 

“Who was that, Kyungsoo?”

“No one. Just a boy from down the road,” Kyungsoo replied trying to sidestep his mother.The smile and laughter dyed on the frigid air as he walked through the door.

“Where were you, Kyungsoo?” she asked, tugging on his sweater roughly.

“Mother, stop it! Nowhere. I was showing him how to gather firewood”

“No, no…” His mother replied, her eyes wide and glazed. “Don’t lie to me, Kyungsoo! Please don’t lie to me. Not you.”

Kyungsoo stood there. He just wanted to save her, but all he could do was wait and try to convince her that he wasn’t the enemy.

“I’m not lying! I promise!” Kyungsoo cried out, trying to bring his mother in for a hug, but she pushed him back.

“You were going to leave with that boy, weren’t you?

Kyungsoo froze before replying, “No! No, I wasn’t.”

“Yes, you were. You were going to leave me just like your father. Everyone always leaves me,” she cried with conviction, brushing the entire tea set onto the floor.

The porcelain shattered against the tile, and Kyungsoo didn't even flinch. All it did was make broken tea set number six.

“You weren’t even going to tell me!”

Kyungsoo pleaded for his mother to calm down, but she wouldn’t listen. Deciding to go get her pills, he twisted off the cap with shaky hands.

“Come on, Mother. Take your pills,” Kyungsoo said as calmly as he could, shaking a white tablet onto his palm.

His mother shook her head from side to side and slapped the bottle out of his grip.

“Why do I have to take them!?” she yelled.

Kyungsoo knelt to pick up the pill bottle.

“I’m not crazy, so tell me why I have to take these pills, Kyungsoo-ah. Please?” she asked, holding onto him as he stood up. “Huh… why?” She asked, pleading into his eyes.

“It's okay. I’ll take them with you this time,” Kyungsoo replied as he saw the tears running down her face. He didn’t want to fight anymore.

“Come on. Let’s take them,” he said as he successfully put the pill in her frail hand.

Kyungsoo picked up a pill for himself. He quickly swallowed it back with his tears, squeezing his eyes shut as they scraped along the sides of his throat.

“See? I took it too,” Kyungsoo said, sticking out his tongue.

His mother smiled, defeated.

Kyungsoo blinked back more tears as he walked over to run a glass of water. His mother took the cup before swallowing her own pill

“Come here,” he said as he led her around the mess on the floor.

“All you have to do is stay with me, Kyungsoo. That's all.”

 

 

Kyungsoo found himself heaving over the toilet in the middle of the night, stomach lurching forward as he rested against the cold porcelain. After ten minutes of nothing, he gave up, standing on shaky legs. Stripping out of his clothes, Kyungsoo stepped into the shower. The water was all cold. He didn’t want to feel a thing.

Standing directly under the freezing stream, Kyungsoo let the water rain down on him, mixing with his own tears, drowning out the muffled hiccouphs. When he opened his eyes, he found himself looking down at his forearms. The temporary tattoo was long gone, but he still swiped his hand over the once marked skin. As he tilted his head under the spray, all he wanted in that moment was Jongin. He had never wanted someone so much.

 

Kyungsoo knew how painful it was to want and wish when he finally decided to return to the cabin a few days later in the middle of the night. Using a flashlight and his compass, Kyungsoo crept through the woods, and since he was so sure of where he was going, he hardly even used the devices. All he had to do was keep his eyes on the silver side of the moon.

When he arrived at the cabin, Kyungsoo wasn’t sure if he should go in because he saw the flickering of light from within, but walking slowly toward the entrance, he heard muffled R’n’B that was so Jongin.

 

“Jongin?”

“Yeah, I’m here.”

Kyungsoo walked in and took in the view. Strung from one end of the cabin to nearly the other, there were a dozen or so Polaroid’s hanging from a ribbon of old typewriter ink.

“What’s this?” Kyungsoo asked as he tapped a photo.

“Just thought you might like it,” Jongin said, shrugging as he got up.

“I love it.”

Kyungsoo came to the cabin to curl inward, to recall all the bad that had happened in his life, and all the bad that he was so sure was to come. He didn’t come for his heart to swell at Jongin’s thoughtfulness. That wasn’t in the plan at all.

Kyungsoo was lost in his thoughts when he felt Jongin’s hand brush alongside his own.

“That’s my favorite picture.”

“Mines too…,” Kyungsoo said, wrapping his fingers around Jongin’s, lacing them together.

“I haven’t seen you for a while,” Jongin said as Kyungsoo turned to him, his head resting up against his chest.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too.”

“For what?” Kyungsoo asked, raising his eyes to meet Jongin’s.

“I heard… Your mom…”

“Oh… Yeah…”

“You don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want to.”

Kyungsoo almost took Jongin up on his offer, but this time was different, Jongin was different. He didn't want any secrets between them, and it was only fair Jongin know why they were out here all alone in the middle of nowhere. It was only fair Jongin know him. The real him.

 

Jongin brought a finger to brush up against Kyungsoo’s damp cheek as he finished telling the story of his life.

“And It’s just that I’ve never done this before, and I… and I don’t know if I can,” Kyungsoo said, swallowing, his Adam's apple bobbing up and then down. Kyungsoo felt lighter having shared some of the burden with Jongin, but he was scared. It was all so real, and getting harder and harder to keep this act up. Jongin scooted closer to Kyungsoo, cupping his jaw to bring him in for a light kiss.

“You’ll be okay. I promise.”

And Kyungsoo wanted to believe him. With every piece of his being, he wanted to believe like he never had before, but how?

“Come back with me? I can help you get into college… You can stay with me…”

Kyungsoo pulled out of Jongin’s embrace.

“I appreciate it. I appreciate everything you do for me, but you know I can’t leave her like this…  She’s my mother, Jongin.”

“I know, Babe. But, you’ve got to live your life too. You’re more than you think you are, Soo,” Jongin said.

Kyungsoo’s heart sank. Everything was coming to an end faster than he thought it would. He didn’t want to get off this ride yet. Not when winter hadn’t ended yet. Not when he needed a piece of summer to get through it.

“Kiss me,” Kyungsoo blurted out, as he grabbed Jongin’s forearm.

He wasn’t ready to let go yet. Not without giving Jongin something to remind himself of winter.

 

The sound of crackling wood and piano filled the small cabin. Kyungsoo swore, as he laid back against the couch, he would associate the two with Jongin forever. The worn armrest dug into his back, but Kyungsoo didn’t care because Jongin covered him like a blanket. Warmer than anything that had ever touched him before—heavy, solid, perfect.

Kyungsoo shuddered under Jongin’s heated skin as he nuzzled his nose into the crook of Jongin’s neck. He pressed quiet kisses against skin layered in a fine sheen of sweat as Jongin explored his body. He tried to memorize every fingerprint that left a trail of ecstasy through his entire body.

And when Jongin rocked into him slow and deep as if tomorrow wasn't on their heels, Kyungsoo found it hard to think. All he could do was hold on tight, his fingers leaving marks of their own on the beige plains of Jongin's back. The sound of soft panting mingled in the air between their bodies before Kyungsoo was overtaken with the urge to taste.

Kyungsoo relaxed into the solid body above him as he sucked at the skin underneath Jongin's jaw. The glistening and heated flesh tasted sweet, salty, and a little like sunset in August. He wished to remember it all because he might never taste such vibrancy ever again.

Running his lithe hands up and down Jongin's broad back, Kyungsoo had never felt so hot in his life. He struggled to breath around the begging and desperate moans that tumbled out of his bruised lips. And when Jongin finally gave in to Kyungsoo's pleas, Kyungsoo nuzzled his nose into Jongin's brown strands. Strong arms held him tight as he inhaled Jongin's warmth, and it was if their bodies was set ablaze.

Kyungsoo's pale skin glowed in the firelight as he arched off of the small couch. A stinging pain had him sucking in a sharp breath before sinking back into the sticky leather, heat pooling into his groin.

"Say my name," Jongin murmured into bruised skin.

Kyungsoo's tried to call out Jongin's name through a haze so white in his mind, but he couldn't find his words.

"Try Again," Jongin said, pericing through it all.

Jongin's lean hips moved in and out of Kyungsoo's smaller frame at an urgent pace, refusing to let up as they raced to the finish line.

"J... Jongin," Kyungsoo moaned as Jongin hit a spot so deep inside of him he saw stars in several universes behind his eyelids.

All Kyungsoo wanted to do was let go for the first time, to give it all up to Jongin as he met the urgent thrusts pushing him back.

"Louder, Kyungsoo," Jongin growled into Kyungsoo's ear, a warning of sorts.

The only word to describe Kyungsoo at that moment was wrecked. Wrecked like a ship set on fire and left to burn, or like a ship hit so bad all it could do was sink. But then Jongin stopped, his body still except the rise and fall of his chest, as everything went white in Kyungsoo's head. His world coming back to him.

And that was all it took to have Kyungsoo calling out Jongin's name like he would a savior. Kyungsoo lurched forward, his thick brows furrowing, as ropes of white appeared between them.

"That's it, Baby. Let it go," Jongin purred into Kyungsoo's ear, as his own white climax approached.

  
When Kyungsoo came to, limbs numb and body satiated as if etherized on a hospital table, Jongin was looking at him. His whiskey colored eyes read him like his favorite book, and Kyungsoo wished to never forget them, so warm and so clear.

Kyungsoo knew Jongin was leaving tomorrow. He knew he might not ever see him again, but he was determined not to let Jongin fade away. He didn't want to leave this moment behind, not yet. The only thing he wanted was to see, taste, and feel him now. Every single inch of him.

"Again."


	6. Penrose Flowers

The sun and moon were preparing to exchange places in the sky when they parted. Kyungsoo leaned into Jongin’s truck for one last kiss as the vehicle was backed out of the driveway.

“I’ll come visit. Every weekend. I promise,” Jongin said in between kisses.

Kyungsoo waved until there was nothing left but a set of tire tracks and the feeling of Jongin on his lips. Stuffing his hands deep inside his coat pockets, Kyungsoo looked at the deserted road before walking back into the house. Even if he never did come back, Kyungsoo was glad they hadn’t said goodbye. That would have been too sad.

Kyungsoo tried to go back to his old routine, the one where he woke up at six in the morning --the one where he pretended everything was okay. But things weren’t the same, things weren’t okay. The sky was bluer, the sun was brighter, and the snow was colder than before. How could he go back to his black and white world when it didn't exist anymore?

 

“We need more firewood,” Kyungsoo said to his mother, his tone flat.

“You’ll be back soon, right!? You’re not going to meet that boy, right!?”

“No. He’s gone,” Kyungsoo said, his tone clipped as he swallowed around the lump in his throat.

Kyungsoo started walking toward the woods as soon as he entered the frigid air, the trees loomed in front of him. He hadn’t been back to the cabin since the night he and Jongin were there because it hurt too much, it hurt even to think about it. But now Kyungsoo wanted to write, needed to write. The white of the paper and the tick-tack-ding of the machine would calm him. It had to. It always had in the past.

When Kyungsoo opened the door to the cabin, he noticed several white paper airplanes hanging from the ribbon. They twirled lazily in the frigid air. He smiled. When did Jongin have the time to make these? He thought at he approached the folded paper slowly.

Just when Kyungsoo thought he could forget Jongin, there he was being reminded of him, of his light, of his warmth. But who was he kidding. Everything began to remind him of Jongin. A week had passed full of Kyungsoo spending nearly every waking moment thinking about the other male. Missing him was an understatement; he yearned for Jongin to finish what he had started, to come back for what had bloomed in his wake.

The small paper airplane swirled to the ground when Kyungsoo squeezed the clip holding its string. Smiling, he stooped down to pick it up. And as if he were a child, Kyungsoo couldn’t help but aim it across the room and let go.

The paper plane didn’t go very far, and Kyungsoo smiled as he walked over, picking it up gently. He smoothed out the nose of the airplane, which had crumpled slightly on impact with his typewriter.

After starting a fire in the fireplace, Kyungsoo sat down to type. It had been so long, and he had so much to say. As he loaded a fresh piece of paper into the machine, Kyungsoo thought about making Jongin proud, of him sitting down to read his story. The words poured out onto the page, the blue against stark white being something he didn’t know he was craving to see. And after a half hour of typing, Kyungsoo felt a bit calmer and like his old self.

Sitting back in the chair, his eyes traveled back to the paper airplane. He flicked it and watched it move across the wooden surface.

A smile spread across his face, as he imagined Jongin folding these after they had finished making love for the third time that night. It was worth being allowed to fall asleep for a little while.

Standing up, Kyungsoo stretched his arms above his head, and picking up the paper airplane, Kyungsoo carefully placed it in his pocket. This one he’d keep in his room, and maybe then he wouldn’t feel so lonely.

 

Having a piece of Jongin made it easier for Kyungsoo to get through the long winter days. But today had been particularly long and nothing could stave off the wave of anxiety that washed over him. Kyungsoo had been extremely eager to finish his routine, to put his mother in bed, and wait. Wait for Jongin.

Kyungsoo had been sitting in the cabin staring at the small fire in the fireplace when he heard the door open. Standing up, he nearly ran over to the familiar face.

“I’ve missed you so much,” Kyungsoo whispered into Jongin’s lips.

“Me too,” Jongin replied before he wrapped his arms around Kyungsoo.

Kyungsoo melted into Jongin’s embrace as he was brought closer. His smell, His warmth, his everything was all Kyungsoo needed to erase all that had happened throughout the week.

 

“Thanks for the paper airplane decorations,” Kyungsoo said, snuggling into Jongin’s chest as they lay on the couch.

“You like ‘em?” Jongin replied as he ran a hand through Kyungsoo’s dark locks.

Kyungsoo nodded his head. The sound of Jongin’s heart beat was loud in his ears.

“I want to ask you a question. You can tell me no if you want, but there’s a party tonight back at school, and I wanted you to come. There are some people I’d like you to meet. Writers and stuff…”

Kyungsoo bit his bottom lip as he sat up. Go back to the city? He hadn’t planned on ever going back to the city. It was too loud, too far. And his mother… What about his mother? Kyungsoo’s mind was going a mile a minute.

“We don’t have to. We can stay here and do whatever you like,” Jongin replied as he moved in to kiss Kyungsoo on the neck. “Whatever you want…”

Kyungsoo closed his eyes as white heat stirred within him. As much as he wanted to keep Jongin all to himself, he also wanted to see Jongin’s world. Sometimes he’d stay up all night thinking about what Jongin was doing back in the city. Like if he were up drawing or even thinking about him back here in the countryside.

“Let’s go,” Kyungsoo said, his voice loud in the quiet cabin. “As long as I’m back by six, my Mother should be okay.”

But even if she wasn’t true, Kyungsoo would have liked to think the smile on Jongin’s face was worth it.

 

Kyungsoo found himself gripping the steering wheel tightly as he followed Jongin into the city. He had turned on the R’n’B radio station back when they turned west, and it calmed his nerves significantly.

“Come on!” Jongin yelled.

His voice was loud and clear over the blaring music.

Kyungsoo followed after Jongin, only one step behind. The anxious feelings had returned, and his heart was pounding just as fast as the beat. Jongin had brought him to a house party being held just outside of Seoul. Kyungsoo knew the area well, but he didn’t tell Jongin that.

The smell of booze, sweat, sex, and something else hit him as soon as he walked through the door.

“Hey!”

Kyungsoo bowed at the boy who welcomed them at the door.

“Welcome! I’m Chanyeol, and su casa is mi casa….,” the boy with big ears and a wide, white smile said, his arms swinging out to gesture at the space behind him.

“It’s the other way around, Dumbass!” a male with black hair yelled as he smacked Chanyeol in the back of the head, making his drink slosh onto the floor.

“I’m Baekhyun. And don’t mind him.”

Kyungsoo stared as the smaller boy dragged Chanyeol away. Are these the type of people Jongin hang out with, Kyungsoo asked himself as he looked around.

“Come on upstairs,” Jongin said as he grabbed Kyungsoo’s hand.

Kyungsoo squeezed through the couples on the steps, some making out, some just grinding against each other. Kyungsoo was blushing before they even made it up the stairs where things were a lot more x-rated.

Jongin led him down a hallway before entering the last door on the left.

“Hey! Where’ve you been? Come. Have some.”

Kyungsoo coughed as he entered the room. The strong smell of marijuana gave him an instant headache. He bowed awkwardly as he stepped into the room.

“These are the people I want you to meet, Kyungsoo,” Jongin whispered as he picked up a lit joint from one of the ash trays.

Kyungsoo’s eyes went wide as Jongin took a long drag before exhaling the smoke slowly through his mouth so that it went up into his nose. It was just like in the movies, and Jongin looked entirely too sexy.

“Here!”

A cup was shoved into Kyungsoo’s hand by a male not much taller than Kyungsoo, but he had a dimple in one cheek. Kyungsoo didn’t drink, but he couldn’t refuse, so he nodded at the male and took a customary gulp, thinking it was just beer. But his throat was instantly lit on fire when he swallowed the liquid down. Tears sprung to his eyes as he tried not to cough.

“Suho, let’s hear you latest piece! I heard you spent all winter break writing it,” a male called from the corner of the room. Or at least Kyungsoo thought it was a male by the tone of his voice. His eyes were big and brown, his chin in a nearly perfect V shape. He was pretty.

“Don’t stare or his boyfriend might get mad,” Jongin whispered into Kyungsoo’s ear as he lifted his chin to the male lounging next to him. “And If he won’t, I will,” he continued, sending a shiver down Kyungsoo’s spine.

“Wait, You gotta be high to stomach his shit. And I know who isn’t high enough to listen to Suho’s poem yet,” a girl with long black hair twisted into a tight bun joked as she crossed the room.

“Right, Kyungsoo?” She asked as she neared. Her lips curled at the end as she handed over a lit joint.

Kyungsoo was ready to decline, but then he found himself taking a hit or two. His lungs burned as he took another drag. Jongin motioned for Kyungsoo to get on the bed in the middle of the room. He tried not to disturb anyone as he crawled with one free hand onto the soft surface, but his equilibrium was off, and he nearly collided with a boy whose hair was platinum blonde and cotton candy pink.

“I’m Sehun.”

Kyungsoo stared at the other male when he leaned over to take a drag of Kyungsoo’s joint before settling against the headboard again. Closing his eyes, Kyungsoo took another drag too. This time it was easier when the smoke filled his lungs.

So this is what Jongin meant when he said he relaxed his mind.

When Kyungsoo opened his eyes again everything was brighter and louder. Jongin’s skin looked more like the first day of summer, and Kyungsoo never wanted winter again if it meant that it would dull Jongin.

He giggled at the thought of Jongin being dull because he was anything but dull, everything but dull.

“Give us a poem, Kyungsoo. We know you write. You got something for us?” Suho yelled as he crumpled up his piece of paper and threw it at Sehun. It hit him directly between the eyes and Kyungsoo couldn’t help but laugh. Everyone laughed.

Wait. He was done already, Kyungsoo thought as he was pulled up by the male with the dimple only in one cheek. His mind went blank as he struggled to stand. When he looked back at Jongin for help, all he got was a wave of the hand, shooing him to the middle of the floor, a lop-sided smirk on his mouth.

In any other situation, Kyungsoo would have died of embarrassment but right now, he felt as if he were floating above the clouds, so high no one could bring him down even if they tied a string around his ankle and pulled.

Looking around the room, everything was a bit off kilter as he swayed were he stood, but he smiled when he saw the thumbs up from Jongin.

Even though Kyungsoo hadn’t prepared a thing, the words came out of him like water from a well. Untouched, raw, and everything his heart had been aching to say. He directed his last lines to Jongin.

weeks went by, but it felt like hours.  
dark roast eyes against Penrose flowers.  
hand in hand we stood under white snow showers  
but in my head we were climbing blue snowflake towers,  
ruling over rice paper empires

Kyungsoo bowed dramatically when he finished, a giggle bursting from within as a round of applause exploded in his ear. White smiles clouded his vision, and the room spun on its axis as he crawled back onto the bed to take a drag from his joint, which was currently between Sehun’s lithe fingers.

What did he just say? What was his poem about again? Kyungsoo couldn't remember, and he didn't think it mattered.

 

“Ruling over empires? I like the sound of that.”

Kyungsoo moaned in response to the lazy whisper in his ear before grabbing a bottle of liquor out of the bathroom sink. Maybe he’d try vodka this time. Or no, maybe whiskey since it reminded him of Jongin’s eyes.

Before he could get the top off, there were warm fingers snaking inside of Kyungsoo sweater and a equally hot mouth latching onto the nape of his neck. Kyungsoo inhaled the smell of alcohol coming from the mouth laping at his neck as if he were an oasis, and the rapid flicks of slick wetness against his sensitive skin ignited his insides. It was too hot. Much too hot.

Kyungsoo pushed back, hard, dropping the bottle of liquor back into the white sink, and his pale fingers moved to grab onto the edge as his head dropped forward. He couldn't make out what the familiar voice was saying, but didn't care. He didn't try to make sense of the flury of words even when he was pulled back, legs tangling between two others as he was guided to the bathtub.

Kyungsoo pressed against the clothed figure above him, and he wanted to reach for the whiskey because Jongin's eyes weren't bright enough, and maybe a little drop would bring them back to normal.

"What's the matter?"

Kyungsoo stared before closing his eyes, shutting out the dull whiskey colored eyes that gazed back at him. Instead he took to grinding up against the tone torso above him, his own need evident in his skinny jeans.

"You were so hot up there, you know that? I always knew you had it in you."

Kyungsoo moaned before grabbing the collar of the other male's shirt, his pale fingers stretching the material. He couldn't breathe.

"Take it off. Please," he begged as the cool porcelain behind his head grounded him. He just wanted Jongin to be quiet because something was off. Maybe it was the third cup of brown liquid that dulled Jongin's eyes or the joint he shared with the guy with pink hair, but whatever it was, Kyungsoo didn't want to admit that he liked it. A lot.

"Fuck me. Now."

 

Kyungsoo woke slowly, but even that did not stop the pounding in his head. He didn’t dare open his eyes because he felt like his head was going to split wide open if he made any sudden movements.

But then his mind caught up with him, and Kyungsoo's eyes shot open as he tried not to vomit. Kyungsoo sat up from where he was laying on some random futon in a corner. A warm arm flopped onto his lap, and Kyungsoo’s eyes traveled the length of the arm to rest on a head of chestnut brown hair. It didn’t belong to Jongin.

Kyungsoo groaned as he stood up, his legs almost giving out from under him. He was in pain from head to toe, but there was no time for regrets. There were more important matters to attend to. Stepping over several sleeping bodies, empty bottles, and abandoned books and notebooks, Kyungsoo had been able to retrieve the rest of his clothes and find a sleeping Jongin.

“Jongin, get up!” he whispered to the male who was sprawled out on a king size bed, squeezed between Suho and Sehun.

Kyungsoo got dressed as he walked to the bathroom. He looked like shit, and felt like it too, but he had to get home.

“I’m coming with you.”

The sun would be up any minute, Kyungsoo thought as he struggled to jog back to the truck.

“No, you should stay. You have school!” Kyungsoo yelled, rummaging around for his keys.

“I can miss a day or two. I need to make sure you make it home safe.”

Kyungsoo sighed in defeat as Jongin hopped in beside him.

 

The sky casted a bluish tint on everything as Kyungsoo reached the familiar road. He fought the urge to drive past the speed limit, but he relaxed a bit when he felt Jongin’s hand on his thigh rubbing soothing circles. And Kyungsoo almost succeeded in convincing himself that he was overreacting until he saw screaming blue and red lights in front of his house.

Kyungsoo’s eyes widened, and he nearly crash into one of the cop cars as he pulled up to his house. He burst through the door, his boots, wet with snow, made a squeaking noise on the floor.

“Stay back, Young Man,” a police officer commanded as Kyungsoo walked into the living room.

“No. What’s happening?”

“I’m sorry, Kyungsoo. I had to call them.”

Kyungsoo whipped his head to the left and narrowed his eyes. It was the grocer.

“She called me in the middle of the night asking if I knew where you were. I came right over, but she wouldn’t calm down. She wouldn’t listen. She threatened to kill herself… I didn’t… I didn’t know what to….”

Kyungsoo tore his eyes away from the frightened and distraught man as two men carried his limp mother from the kitchen.

“Mother! Mom!”

His mother opened her eyes when she heard her son calling her name.

“Kyungsoo…,” she replied, but then her eyes went wide. “You left me!” she screamed. You left me for him!” she yelled pointing at Jongin. “You stole my son!!” She said lunging at the tan male.

“Mom, please,” Kyungsoo cried. Tears were running down his cheeks as the two men tightened their grip on her arms as they led her towards the door.

“Wait. Where are you going? Where are you taking her?” Kyungsoo asked as he tried to follow after them.

“We have no choice but to take her to the hospital. She’s a threat to you and herself. We can’t leave her here.”

“Mom!” Kyungsoo cried as he tried reaching out for her.

“It’s all your fault, Kyungsoo. I told you not to leave me,” she said, her tone nasty as she flinched away from his touch. “I hate you.”

Kyungsoo collapsed onto the hardwood floor wishing it were all a dream, and he didn’t get up, couldn’t find the strength to get up, until everyone was gone. Everyone except Jongin.

 

“She said it, Jongin. It’s all my fault,” Kyungsoo said as tears dried in tracks down his face.

Jongin was smoothing a hand through Kyungsoo’s hair before he brought him in and kissed him on top of his head.

“It’s not your fault, Kyungsoo.”

“Yes, it is. I was careless. I….”

“You lived. In almost three years, you decided to go live. That’s all you did. Don’t punish yourself for it. You couldn't have predicted this was going to happen.”

Kyungsoo was finding it hard to breathe as thoughts clouded his mind, but then Jongin’s hands were on him, pushing him back so that he was lying down on the couch.

“Shh, calm down. Just breathe.”

Kyungsoo closed his eyes as Jongin leaned over and kissed him on the side of his mouth.

“Breathe, Baby.”

Kyungsoo concentrated on breathing as Jongin wiped the tears that slid from the corner of his eyes with the pad of his thumb. When he could finally breathe normally again, Jongin bent down for another kiss. This time on the mouth. The kiss was slow and lazy as Kyungsoo smoothed his hands down Jongin’s shirt, fisting the cloth between his fingers.

When they broke apart, Kyungsoo was looking at Jongin, pleading with him to make everything go away, to tell him all of this wasn't real and that they'd be out of the woods soon.

“It’s going to be okay,” Jongin murmured as he pushed up Kyungsoo's shirt to reveal ivory color skin, slightly black and blue with fingerprints from last night.

Kyungsoo inhaled sharply as Jongin traced patterns across his purpling skin, up and down, left and right. He then planted soft butterfly kisses in his finger's wake; his eyes, the color of autumn leaves, no whiskey needed, never left Kyungsoo’s face.

“Let me take care of you."


	7. Fugue

Kyungsoo woke to the sound of the wind curling around his window pane, the curtain licking against the wood of his desk.  Burrowing into his comforter, he tried to block out the cold air.  
  
Two weeks had passed since his mother’s admittance to the psychiatric hospital back in Seoul. After blaming himself a thousand times over, Kyungsoo was now numb. Jongin tried to convince him that what had happened was for the best, that Kyungsoo couldn’t take care of her forever, but Kyungsoo felt like a failure, like he had failed his mother.  
  
“Wake up, sleepy head.”

Kyungsoo cuddled deeper into his covers at the soft whisper. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips alongside the tugging of his comforter. Kyungsoo cracked an eye open slowly to see the glittering of half melted icicles hanging in front of his window, the dripping water like diamonds on his window seal.  
  
The doctor had called for Kyungsoo to come down to the hospital, and even though he was afraid to hear what he had to say, he knew he couldn’t stop caring. He couldn’t be like his father. So, Kyungsoo sat up, his feet firm against the wood floor as he moved to start the day. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if Jongin was there.  
  
Kyungsoo inhaled and exhaled, his diaphragm expanding under his coat, as he walked to the front desk. The lady was cheerful as she logged him in, but waiting was torture. At least having Jongin’s presence slowed his heartbeat considerably as he sat in the plush seats.

“Mr. Do Kyungsoo? The doctor will see you now. "Room 24.”

Kyungsoo sat up in his seat and looked over at Jongin who had been flipping through a magazine.

“You’ll be fine. I’ll be here waiting.”

Kyungsoo smiled before getting up. He looked back once more before walking down the long hallway. The doctor greeted him immediately upon entering the room.

“Please, sit down. How are you?”

Kyungsoo’s mind went blank as he sat on the leather couch across from the doctor’s chair.

“I’m… I’m okay, I guess. How’s my mother?”

“She’s doing better. We’ve had to change her medicine.”

A pang of guilt cursed through Kyungsoo’s body as he remembered he had never written the doctor back when he was asked by the pharmacist.

“Don’t worry. She’s being taken care of by some of the best doctors in Korea,” the doctor said with a warm smile. “What I’m more interested in is how you are doing? We haven’t spoken since I last saw you two years ago.”

Kyungsoo wrung his hands as he tried to not to fidget in his seat.

“I’ve been holding up. Trying to take care of her, that’s all.”

“That must have been hard.”

“Having a routine helped.”

“How did you feel about that? About organizing your life around her?”

It was easy, Kyungsoo thought. All he had to do was give up one thing, everything.

“I didn’t mind…,” Kyungsoo started, but then his mind flickered to Jongin in the waiting room, and how he had always said he deserved more than what he had.

“At first, but then it got harder and harder to spend every waking moment with her,” Kyungsoo continued, his eyes wide as he looked at the doctor.

The doctor nodded his head as he took out a notepad and pen.

"That’s usually what happens, Kyungsoo. And you were very brave for trying. It’s just that your mother is very sick, and she needs professional help right now.”

Though Kyungsoo knew the doctor’s words were true, he couldn’t keep his bottom lip from quivering.

“You can come and visit, of course. However, we can’t allow her to leave yet.”

Kyungsoo nodded, tears prickling his eyes. “I… I understand.”

“Good,” the doctor smiled. “Do you have any plans?”

Plans? No, Kyungsoo hadn’t a clue what to do. He had spent every waking day with his mother for nearly three years. All of his plans revolved around her, and now she was gone too.

“Not, really… Maybe I’ll look into going back to school…”

“That’s really good to hear, Kyungsoo. Do you have someone to help you? To talk to about this?”

“Uh… Yes, my friend Jongin.”

“Oh, yes. I remember your mother saying you had been hanging out with a boy lately. Does he live out there with you?” The doctor asked while scribbling in his notepad.

“No… No…he goes to school here, but I met him out there when he was visiting his grandmother’s for winter break.”

“Is that so? That’s very good to hear that you've made a new friend. How does he feel about all this? Does he know?”

“Yes, and he’s been really supportive, even after everything. He was actually there when it happened. So, he saw everything firsthand.”

“Oh? He was?” The doctor asked, as he looked up. He pushed his wire frame glasses up his nose as he adjusted in his seat. “Can you tell me more about that night?”

Kyungsoo ended up telling the doctor more than about that night. He told him everything. He couldn’t stop the words from flowing out of him, like the night at the party, unrehearsed, organic, the cold, hard, truth.

“How does Jongin make you feel, Kyungsoo? What’s he like?”

Kyungsoo’s eyes flickered to the patterned carpet, multicolored, unrestrained, chaotic.

“He makes me feel like I’m the most important person in the world, like I’m smart, like I can go places. He’s like an oasis in a desert, color in a world of black and white, sound in a world of silence. He’s…”

“He’s everything you’re not?” The doctor finished, smiling slightly.

Exactly.

 

“Would you mind coming back next week? In the meantime, I’d like to put you on a low dosage of medicine that I think can be helpful to you. If that’s alright?”

Kyungsoo’s eyes widened, his mouth open for protest. He didn’t want to be like his mother. The only time she could function was when she was on them, and even then she wasn’t herself. Just a shell of what once was.

“You've been through a lot, and I think this medicine might help you with your anxiety when it comes to you shouldering the guilt about your mother, and it might also help you improve in your social isolation. You can decline, of course.”

Kyungsoo mulled it over as the doctor continued to talk, but he gave in. Wanting to do better, be better, was Kyungsoo’s main priority.

 

  
The following week when Kyungsoo walked through those same doors, and sat on the same couch, he had been eager to tell the doctor that he was feeling a bit better. He talked about how he had started writing more, and that he had even looked into schools with a literature program.

“That is wonderful to hear, Kyungsoo,” the doctor said smiling as he wrote a few lines in his notebook. “And Jongin? How does he feel about this?”

Kyungsoo stuttered before answering. “I  don’t know. I haven’t seen or heard from him, but it’s because he’s been busy with school.”

The doctor just nodded, jotting things down in his notebook.

“Can you tell me more about Jongin? Where does he live?”

Kyungsoo began to answer, but nothing came out. He blinked before answering.

”I… I don’t know. He has always come to me,” Kyungsoo replied. “But… But he goes to Seoul National University.” Kyungsoo said smiling. “He’s really smart.”

“Oh, isn’t that where you had got accepted into before your mother’s accident?”

Kyungsoo’s eyebrows furrowed.  “No…? What are you talking about?”

“Remember? You had gotten into Seoul National University for creative writing, right?”

Kyungsoo’s heartbeat accelerated as he dug through his brain for what the doctor was talking about, but he kept drawing blanks.

“But then after a night of staying out to celebrate with your friends, you came home and couldn’t find your mother. She had been wondering around for hours looking for you. After that incident you gave up everything to take care of her.”

Kyungsoo couldn’t hear a word the doctor was saying, all he could see was his mouth moving.

“I think I should go now,” Kyungsoo said sternly before hastily getting up to leave.

Kyungsoo drove home, tears in his eyes. What was the doctor talking about? What had his mother been telling him? She was doing nothing but feeding the doctors lies and delusions. The windows in the truck were fogged from the heat as Kyungsoo drove west away from the city, his foot firmly pressed on the gas. How could he ever get accepted into Seoul National University? He, who could barely string a coherent sentence together, got into the most prestigious school in the country? Kyungsoo laughed bitterly in the silence. He’d think he’d remember getting into college. He never planned on going to college anyway, not with his father walking out and his mother’s mind lost in the wind.

  
Kyungsoo sighed as he dropped his hand onto the bathroom counter. Where was Jongin? He needed him, his touch, his laugh, his scent so bad. He missed him so much, and right now he needed him the most. A tear rolled down Kyungsoo’s cheek as he looked up into the mirror. He needed someone to talk to.

 

  
  
Kyungsoo fell into a deep depression when the snow threatened to melt, the dripping of the snow nearly driving him mad. A pile of black ash sat in the fireplace, and it seemed like Kyungsoo hadn't moved from his spot on the couch in forever.  
  
Stretching underneath the black and white comforter, Kyungsoo scrubbed at his face with his hands. The sound of his stomach grumbling piqued his interest, but then he remembered there was nothing to eat. The thought of going into town alone had his heart palpitating, frightening him. Eating could wait.  
  
Sleep was tugging on Kyungsoo's mind when a knock sounded at the door. Kyungsoo stilled, not sure who it could be, but in the back of his mind he knew exactly who it was.  
  
Kyungsoo's short cropped hair stood up on end as he tried to smooth the unruly strands. Walking quietly over to the door, Kyungsoo slowly unlocked and opened it.  
  
"Kyungsoo..."  
  
Kyungsoo let all the tears he had been holding in the past month fall when he saw the taller male standing at his door. Even when Jongin rushed to him, strong arms enveloping him, Kyungsoo was inconsolable.   
  
"Shh... You're okay now."  
  
Kyungsoo shook his head like a child, his unruly strands even more unruly against Jongin's cotton chest. Jongin smoothed his hands through Kyungsoo's hair as they stood at the door.   
  
"I... I've been waiting..." Kyungsoo managed to get out between his sobbing.

Kyungsoo’s legs were weak as he let his crying wrack his small and frail frame. He was tired, so scared, so afraid. He wasn’t sure if he was able to go on.

“I know. I know you have,” Jongin said, tugging Kyungsoo close. “And I’m so sorry.”

They stood like that until Kyungsoo couldn’t cry anymore, until he tired himself out against Jongin’s heartbeat.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up,” Jongin said, shifting to move.

Kyungsoo didn’t want to move though. He didn’t want to let go, afraid Jongin was going to leave him again. But he reluctantly let Jongin maneuver him and lead him by the hand upstairs.

 

 

Kyungsoo sat on his mother’s bed, his t-shirt too large, a pale shoulder exposed, showing just how thin Kyungsoo had become. Red puffiness sagged under his big round eyes as he sat there, blankly looking out of the window. Kyungsoo wished it would snow. He was so cold, and he wanted the fire to keep him warm. But instead, patches of green were peeking out from half melted snow, and it was ugly against the glistening white. He startled when he felt a hand on his shoulder, his big round eyes flickering up to Jongin. Kyungsoo was jealous. How did Jongin keep from changing? His smile was so white, his eyes so vibrant. 

Standing up and raising his arms, Kyungsoo allowed Jongin to remove his stretched out t-shirt, and when he was completely naked, Jongin took his hand and led him to the bathroom.

 Kyungsoo shivered as he stepped into the tub, the hot water like ice on his skin. Numb. Crouching down, he sat carefully, scared to disturb the water that separated to allow him in. Kyungsoo willed himself not to cry, but the trembling of his bottom lip threatened to upset everything. But then Jongin was by his side, scooping water onto his back.

Kyungsoo didn’t move an inch or say a word as Jongin lathered a wash cloth and scrubbed a month’s worth of sadness and guilt from the catatonic boy. The next thing Kyungsoo knew, he was hearing water swirl down the drain, his fingers pruned and skin a bit red, but much cleaner than before.

Stepping out of the tub, Kyungsoo allowed Jongin to wrap a fluffy blue towel around him and lead him back to his mother’s room. And then he was dressed, Jongin brushing his wet strands in front of the vanity. He watched Jongin move the brush through his strands, watched the calm look on Jongin’s face, watched his arm move with care up and down. When brown eyes met black, Kyungsoo slid his down, ashamed.

“Look how long your hair has gotten, Soo,” Jongin cooed, his fingers fluttering through Kyungsoo’s raven locks. “So handsome,” Jongin continued, and Kyungsoo blushed, sliding his eyes back to the mirror.

“Really?” he asked, his voice hoarse from lack of use.

“Really,” Jongin replied with a small smile, and Kyungsoo tried to smile back.

 

“Should I go into town and go grocery shopping?” Jongin asked as he rummaged through the refrigerator, Kyungsoo sitting quietly at the table.

Kyungsoo panicked, his fingers peeling at his cuticle.

“I’ll be real quick,” Jongin said shutting the white door. “You literally have nothing.”  

Jongin was right. His father left him, his mother was gone now too. Kyungsoo had no one and nothing. He jumped up when Jongin moved to leave the kitchen, his thin fingers catching cotton.

“I… it’s okay. You can stay here,” Kyungsoo said, his black eyes pleading.

“Look at you, Soo. You’re skin and bones,” Jongin said, taking Kyungsoo’s hands into his own.

“I… I’m not hungry. We…we can go first thing in the morning…,” Kyungsoo said, the lie easily sliding off of his tongue.

Jongin’s eyes darkened, and Kyungsoo was afraid. Looking away, he plopped back down in his seat. He wouldn’t blame Jongin if he never came back. Kyungsoo wouldn’t want to come back either.

“I think I saw some rice, but we’re leaving first thing in the morning,” Jongin said, eyes still hard as he looked down at Kyungsoo.

Kyungsoo nodded eagerly. He just wasn’t ready to face the sun yet, that’s all.

 

When Jongin got into the queen size bed in Kyungsoo’s mother’s room, Kyungsoo immediately snuggled up to Jongin’s bare chest, clinging to the warmth. He was so cold.

“I can’t do this anymore, Jongin,” Kyungsoo whispered into the air.

Hdidn’t know if Jongin was asleep, but he had to say it. He had to hear it out in the silence because his head was too loud, too crowded. Kyungsoo was exhausted. This life, this, was too much for him. He had nothing to lose anyway. He didn’t have a family, a job, an education. All he had was himself and Jongin, and soon enough, Jongin would leave him too.

Kyungsoo moved out of Jongin’s embrace, turning to face the window, the moon shining brightly. Sighing, he let a tear slide down his face. When would this all end? But then Kyungsoo felt a kiss against the nape of his neck, a hand pulling him so that he was on his back.

Kyungsoo stared at Jongin’s face, paled by the moonlight, but his eyes were still brown, and he didn’t even want to close his own eyes when Jongin placed soft lips against his. He let a sob rip from his chest as he wrapped thin arms around Jongin’s neck pulling him close, bare legs tangling under the sheets.

“I’m not going to let you give up,” Jongin whispered as he spread Kyungsoo's legs with his own, Kyungsoo arching into Jongin's warmth.

“Not today, not ever.”


	8. Aperture

Kyungsoo followed closely behind Jongin as they walked through the sunlit forest. The two had gone shopping early in the morning, and Kyungsoo tried to block out the stares and whispers from the town’s folk. Word spread fast about his mother’s incident, and he ended up buying so many non-perishable items that he could go several months without going back. Kyungsoo was glad Jongin had been with him or he didn’t think he’d have the courage to go and probably would have driven several towns over.

He held fast to Jongin’s shirt at times as he struggled not to trip over any broken branches or uneven earth. When they made it to the cabin, Kyungsoo was relieved. He didn’t like to be surrounded by half-melted trees, snow only slightly visible.

“Soo…”

Kyungsoo looked up at Jongin, his hands clasp in front of him. His eyes slid to the wooden floor when Jongin turned around.

“You mean to tell me, you haven’t been here at all?”

Kyungsoo shifted from one leg to the next before shyly nodding his head. He couldn’t bring himself to come here alone. All the memories, he couldn’t bare them alone. Plus, all the inspiration he once had to write was gone, vanished in thin air.

Tears pooled in his eyes as he studied the wooden floor. He was pathetic.

“Baby,” Jongin whispered as he took the smaller male into his arms.

Kyungsoo allowed himself to be pulled against Jongin.

“Are you mad?” Kyungsoo dared ask against the cotton of Jongin’s shirt.

“No, I’m not mad. I could never be mad at you,” Jongin replied before pushing Kyungsoo away and smoothing his flyaway’s.

Kyungsoo ducked his head. He felt like such a child.

“Write me something,” Jongin said, voice confident, smile wide.

Kyungsoo looked up wide eyed at Jongin. How could he possibly write anything? He hadn’t written in months. What was there even to write about? Looking over at the typewriter on the table, Kyungsoo wilted as he eyed the metal machinery. It was as if the typewriter had been waiting for him this whole time, like nothing had changed. Only Kyungsoo.

“Come on,” Jongin said, leading Kyungsoo by the hand over to the typewriter. “Show me how you do it.”

Kyungsoo hesitated, removing his hand from inside Jongin’s.

“Later?” Kyungsoo tried.

He wrapped his arms around Jongin, resting his head on Jongin’s broad back. “Can’t we do something else?”

Kyungsoo heard Jongin chuckle softly before turning in Kyungsoo’s embrace.

“Like what?” He replied, eyes dark but full of mirth.

Kyungsoo shyly pressed himself up against Jongin, his arms tightening around Jongin's lean torso.

“I don’t know,” Kyungsoo replied against Jongin’s neck.

“You don’t know?”

Kyungsoo could almost hear the smirk in Jongin’s reply, and he sucked a pink plump lip between his teeth as his cheeks reddened.

“Hmm… If you write me something, I’m sure we can figure out what it is you want to do.”

Kyungsoo let his lip slip from between his teeth before loosening his embrace and walking over to the typewriter. He could practically feel Jongin’s stare on him as he dusted off the machine, his finger’s ghosting over the keys and levers long abandoned.

Kyungsoo turned his head slightly to watch Jongin sit in the chair in front of the typewriter, his legs spreading wide before motioning for Kyungsoo to sit between them. He slowly sat down in front of Jongin. It was a tight squeeze on the wooden chair, but when Jongin’s arms snaked around his waist, Kyungsoo didn’t care.

“Show me,” Jongin whispered.

Kyungsoo shivered, despite the ghost of warm against the back of his neck before grabbing a piece of paper from the stack to their right. He tried to load the paper, but his hands were shaking.

“Relax, Baby,” Jongin cooed, as he brought his own hands up to steady Kyungsoo’s, his long tan fingers wrapping around pale ones.

 Kyungsoo tried to relax, but how could he when Jongin was pressed up against his back? How could he when Jongin’s strong thighs were pressed against the outside of his own?

“Like this?” Jongin asked as he guided Kyungsoo’s hands to the platen. Kyungsoo swallowed thickly before nodding his head, watching as the paper loaded perfectly.

“Now what?”

Kyungsoo showed Jongin the next steps with much more confidence, but when it came to actually typing, actually putting his thoughts and feelings to paper, he couldn’t move forward. 

“Don’t stop, Baby.”

And Kyungsoo’s heart was pounding in his chest because he could feel Jongin waiting, he could feel the typewriting waiting, everyone was waiting for him to make the first move.

“I don’t know what to write,” Kyungsoo finally admitted, ashamed and afraid that Jongin would be disappointed in him.

At times, it seemed as if Jongin wanted Kyungsoo to write more than Kyungsoo wanted to write. His mind flickered to all the encouragement Jongin had given him when it came to writing, and he silently berated himself for not being able to write on command. He was startled out of his self-deprecating thoughts, however, when he felt Jongin rest a chin on his shoulder. They both stared at the typewriter before Jongin plucked a key, the tick-tack like a gun shot in the woods. But instead of scattering, Kyungsoo was drawn toward it. He missed that sound so much.

“There. Now continue.”

Kyungsoo tried not to laugh as he stared at the lone blue ‘J’ on the white paper. Though it wasn’t much help, Kyungsoo appreciated the gesture. It was a start, and he didn’t know what he did to deserve someone like him.

As if riding a bicycle after a long time Kyungsoo began writing with ease. The words tripped and stumbled out of him before coming in a steady stream, and they both jumped when the _zing_ came, when it was time to go back to the beginning. He smiled as Jongin eagerly moved the roller to the left.

Kyungsoo decided to write a short story about a boy who lived in a house with a dozen locked doors, and how he created stories, fantastical stories and adventurous lives that filled up the spaces that he had never seen before.

Kyungsoo had become so deep in thought, so deep in rhythm, that he startled when he felt Jongin's lips at the nape of his neck. He became all too aware of Jongin’s presence as he peppered light kisses across the pale skin. His eyes slipped close as he reveled in the delicate sensation, the hair on his neck nearly standing on end.

“Keep typing, Baby,” Jongin murmured between kisses.

Kyungsoo wanted to protest, to rebel, because how was he supposed to concentrate with sin over his shoulder. But he obeyed, cursing his fingers as they stuttered over the keys.

Kyungsoo's fingers only stilled when he felt long fingers carding through his hair. He leaned into the touch, drawn to it.

“Mmm, you’re so beautiful when you’re focused.”

Kyungsoo sucked in his bottom lip to bite back a moan when Jongin's fingers tightened in his hair, causing his head to lull back.

“What happens next, Baby?”

Kyungsoo was beginning to become frustrated as the page in front of him came back into focus. Where was he, he wondered, re-reading the last paragraph. Jongin was so distracting, his scent, his warmth, his strong chest pressed close. This was torture.

When it came time to change the paper, Kyungsoo’s hands were trembling again. Jongin had moved to the bare of Kyungsoo's shoulder where the t-shirt didn’t quite make it. The ghost of Jongin's lips felt like heaven, as they worshiped the black moles dotting his skin.

“Keep going.”

Kyungsoo managed to load the second sheet, intent on finishing with renewed vigor. But Jongin was intent on ruining him because his hands were snaking under his t-shirt. Jongin's long fingers caressed the hidden skin, and fluttered over Kyungsoo's smooth stomach.

Kyungsoo jerked away from the sensual touch, causing him to press further against Jongin. He jumped when he heard Jongin moan softly before he pressed back. His jaw dropped, his fingers stilling over the keys. Jongin was hard. Very hard.

“Jongin…,” Kyungsoo gasped.

“Just keep typing.”

The temperature rose as Kyungsoo tried to keep typing against the teasing touches and gentle tugs on his nipples. He felt blinding heat pool in his stomach when Jongin nipped at the shell of his ear. And Kyungsoo found that he was enjoying this game.

“Keep touching me.”

“I didn't plan on stopping.”

Kyungsoo’s eyes were dark, and his lips were swollen from sucking them between his teeth as Jongin drove him crazy. He loved the struggle, the challenge of trying to focus, as he tried not to succumb to the heat behind him or the ceaseless heat down below.

But when Jongin pressed forward, Kyungsoo wasn't so sure anymore. His fingers sped up as Jongin rutted against him. The roll of his hips punctuated every press of the space bar, and everything was becoming all muddled.

“Hmm… Soo. Hurry, I need you,” Jongin groaned into Kyungsoo’s ear. His hands dug into Kyungsoo’s waist as he grinded against the swell of Kyungsoo’s ass.

Kyungsoo couldn't help but imagine how Jongin looked. His eyes were probably laced with lust and lips plump and dewy. Soon Kyungsoo was grinding back, his back arched as he craved a hard and needy Jongin behind him. He couldn't believe he caused that.

Kyungsoo knew he had to start wrapping things up or he'd never see this to its end. His erection strained against his jeans, and Jongin’s heavy breathing was going to carry him over the edge soon.

Kyungsoo heart pounded in his ear when he began to wrap up his story. The desire filled haze in his head was getting stronger, and all he could see, feel, think, smell, and hear was Jongin.

“Baby, you’re so hot like this,” Jongin moaned as he ran his hands up and down Kyungsoo’s jean clad thigh. His fingers pressed into the rough material.

Kyungsoo tried to concentrate as Jongin dragged his hand close to the one place he needed it the most. Just a few more paragraphs he told himself, but he almost gave up when Jongin palmed his erection through his jeans.

“Jongin,” Kyungsoo called out with a strangled cry, his hand pressing down on the keyboard.

Despite the mistake, it didn’t stop him from bucking up into the warm palm. His lulled back to rest on Jongin's shoulder as he tried to gather himself to finish the end of the story.

"Don't give up, Baby. You're almost done," Jongin said against Kyungsoo's dark silky strands. He sounded out of breath, as if he were struggling just as much as Kyungsoo.

When Kyungsoo finally finished his story, he didn’t bother changing the paper or typing “The End”. He threw back his head, moaning as he scrambled to wrap Jongin's arms around him.

“Done, Baby?” Jongin asked, his voice deep and husky.

Kyungsoo nodded as he squeezed his eyes shut. He needed Jongin so bad.

“Good job,” Jongin purred as he pressed down on Kyungsoo hard-on, causing Kyungsoo to shudder against him.

“What does Soo want? Hmm? Tell me,” Jongin continued.

Kyungsoo’s chest heaved as he gripped Jongin’s thighs.

“I… I want you.”

“You’ve got me, Baby. What else?”

“I… I want t-to come…” Kyungsoo breathed out.

His cheeks were hot as he grinded up against Jongin’s teasing palm. Short moans escaped his lips as he rocked back in forth. He didn’t know whether to grind against the warm hand or Jongin’s aching body. Both were causing him to go up in flames.

“I can arrange that,” Jongin replied as he easily unzipped Kyungsoo’s pants.

“W-wait. I want to see your face.”

Jongin smirked against the back of Kyungsoo’s neck.

“Consider it done.”

 

Kyungsoo slowly lifted a leg to settle on Jongin's lap. A gasp escaped his mouth as their erections brushed against each other as he sat on Jongin's heated thighs. Once seated, he wrapped his arms around Jongin’s neck to press his swollen lips against Jongin’s. He had been dyingto have Jongin’s hot mouth against his own.

When they pulled apart, Kyungsoo was out of breath. He ran nimble fingers along Jongin's face. Mesmorized. Jongin smiled before leaning in to began sucking bruises along Kyungsoo's jaw and neck. Kyungsoo held on tight as he bared himself to Jongin, allowing him to feast on his skin.

Kyungsoo's breath hitched in his lungs when Jongin ghosted a hand over his erection, their erections.

He fell forward when Jongin wrapped a hand around both of them, their erections glistening from precome. He watched fascinating as Jongin's hand moved up and down. When everything became too much, Kyungsoo closed his eyes. His stomach clenched and fingers tightened around Jongin's forearm at the immense pleasure.

“Please… I…,” he whimpered, bucking up into Jongin’s tight fist.

“What is it?” Jongin asked as he ran his free hand down Kyungsoo’s unmarked back. He squeezed a pale fleshy globe as Kyungsoo trembled against him.

Kyungsoo shook his head, not quite sure what he wanted anymore as pleasure clouded his mind. Jongin had begun thrusting against him, his fist tightening around them. Kyungsoo knew he wasn’t going to last long, so he reached down, his own hand wrapping around Jongin’s as he thrusted upward. His jaw fell open and head fell forward at the added tightness.

Jongin lifted Kyungsoo's chin to nip at his lower lip as they approached the cliff. Kyungsoo squeezed his eyes shut as he felt the familiar burn in his lower half.

“You should see yourself,” Kyungsoo heard Jongin groan against his mouth. “So sexy… and all fucking mine.”

That was all it took to have Kyungsoo stilling against Jongin. White ropes of come shot out of him while Jongin’s length remained hot and hard against his own.

“Jongin…,” Kyungsoo whined as Jongin captured his lips into a bruising kiss.

Kyungsoo felt like he came forever before his body went limp against Jongin. His breath was harsh against Jongin’s neck as Jongin ran a hand down his back. He curled into Jongin as his orgasm washed over him. He felt so warm and satiated, his eyelids heavy as he pulled away.

It took a while for Jongin to come back into focus but when he did, Kyungsoo browed furrowed as his member twitched. Jongin was stroking himself to completion using his come as lube. The white smeared and glistened over Jongin’s throbbing shaft.

“So hot, Soo…” Jongin groaned out as he leaned back and stroked himself faster.

Kyungsoo ran a hand down the column of Jongin's neck, his Adam's apple prominent under the smooth skin. It took a moment for Kyungsoo’s mind to piece itself back together but when he did, he slid to the floor. The hardwood was cold and hard against his knees as he shifted between Jongin’s spread legs.

He looked up at Jongin with big, round black eyes, begging for Jongin to come. Their eyes met, and Kyungsoo's mouth salivated at Jongin’s hooded eyes crowded with desire.

“Soo…,” Jongin groaned as his hand moved up and down his angry red length.

“I want to taste,” Kyungsoo whispered, his lips parting as he eyed Jongin’s shaft.

Kyungsoo didn’t wait for Jongin to respond before he leaned forward, his hands resting on Jongin’s thighs. Jongin slowed his strokes as Kyungsoo’s pink tongue peeked out from his plump lips. He gained more confidence, deciding to place a kitten lick to the head of Jongin’s shaft. His taste buds came to life at the unique taste, at their taste.

“Soo… You sure?”

Kyungsoo nodded his head, big eyes back on Jongin.

“I want to make you come.”

Jongin groaned before pushing the head of his shaft between Kyungsoo’s waiting lips, careful not to be too rough. But Kyungsoo was eager to please, to give back to Jongin, to show Jongin that he was his.

 

“Ah, Soo.. I’m going to come,” Jongin hissed as Kyungsoo bobbed his head and hollowed his cheeks.

Kyungsoo wanted all of Jongin, so he ignored the warnings and continued taking as much of Jongin’s length into his mouth. His lips quirked when he heard harsh panting from Jongin, the muscles in his stomach contracting wildly.

He ran his hands up and down the tan of Jongin’s thighs, coaxing him to fill his waiting mouth. His black eyes stared at Jongin’s face, at the pleasure etched in every curve.

Kyungsoo attempted to relax his throat causing Jongin’s length to slip further inside. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes when Jongin’s hand threaded inside his black strands.

He made sure to take it all, not waste a single drop, as Jongin came hotly in his mouth. His fingernails dug into the naked flesh of Jongin's thigh as there eyes met. And when his head was tilted back to allow hot strands to land on his swollen lips, Kyungsoo felt his another orgasm rip through him.

Kyungsoo fell forward onto Jongin's lap, his head nestling against his thigh. Kyungsoo was exhausted, and he whimpered as Jongin carded his fingers through his damp hair.

He struggled to get to his feet when Jongin pulled him up and brought him into his warm arms. His heart swelled against the other males as a kiss was placed on his cheek.

 

“You’re better than this, you know that right?”

Kyungsoo just snuggled deeper into Jongin’s side as they lay naked on his bed. He watched the sun fade through his attic window as he thought about what Jongin just said. Was he better than this? Nothing so far convinced him of that.

“Come back with me, Soo. Seriously. I don’t want to leave you out here.”

Kyungsoo didn’t want to be left out here either. Jongin’s Spring break was coming to an end in a few days, so he’d be back off to school. And Kyungsoo didn’t know if he could wait with baited breath for weekends just to breathe. It was scary out here all alone, but Kyungsoo hadn’t realized that until now. He didn’t realize just how dark the forest really was, how still the night becomes when no one is around to disturb it.

“How?” Kyungsoo asked softly as he ran a pale finger down Jongin’s toned abdomen.

“We can get you an apartment, and you can enroll in school to start in the fall. I can help you.”

Kyungsoo’s heart sped up. It was scary thinking about all that. Maybe it wasn’t so bad out here. He could learn to love t again.  He didn’t like the city anyway. Kyungsoo sighed, closing his eyes to shut everything out.

“No. Open your eyes, and look at me.”

Kyungsoo obeyed, his eyes immediately flickering up to Jongin’s brown ones. Kyungsoo swallowed thickly at the ruining stare, but then Jongin’s hand came up to smooth against his jaw.

“Don’t you want to be someone?”

Kyungsoo nodded. After meeting Jongin, he had dared to dream again, to think about the future, the what ifs.

“Then stop hiding.”

Kyungsoo let that sink in. He didn’t want to hide anymore, but…

“Listen to yourself. You’re screaming, Soo. Stop trying to white yourself out, stop trying to drown out the noise.”

Kyungsoo didn’t know what to say. He had never thought about himself, his needs, until Jongin came and showed himself the world he had been missing. He wanted a piece of that, despite how scary it was. He wanted to make a mark, make a sound, out there.

“I… I’ll try…” Kyungsoo said.

“That’s all I’ve ever wanted from you,” Jongin said, pulling Kyungsoo in to press a kiss to his lips.

Their bare legs tangled on the small bed, and Kyungsoo felt better than he had in a long time. Maybe it was Jongin that made him feel better. Or maybe it was hope hanging from a thin thread on his heart. Or maybe Jongin was the hope inside of Kyungsoo.


	9. Evergreen

Kyungsoo looked around the small space. His new home.

“You like it?”

Kyungsoo smiled at the deep but warm voice in his ear as he leaned into the embrace. He didn’t know the answer to Jongin’s question right now, but maybe he could come to like it someday.

“See, you can put your desk over here by the window, just how you like it. It’s not even that loud like you were worried about.”

Kyungsoo smiled as Jongin walked over the window, his skin aglow and silhouette beautiful. He remembered how much teeth-pulling they went through to get him to actually make the move. But Jongin was there every step of the way, reassuring him, helping him, guiding him.

“Thanks,” Kyungsoo said, slightly standing on his tippy toes and placing a chaste kiss to Jongin’s lips.

“Anything for you, Babe.”

And Kyungsoo believed him.

 

“You goin’ to be okay?” Jongin asked as he put his shoes on in the doorway.

“Yes, yes! I’ll be fine,” Kyungsoo said, even though he wasn’t sure.

Jongin had been staying with Kyungsoo for the entire week to help the transition back to city life. They explored the neighborhood, visited a few colleges, and Jongin even encouraged Kyungsoo to look into getting a part-time job, nothing too much, but just enough to get out of the apartment once in a while until classes began.

And even though his tiny apartment was beginning to feel like home, Kyungsoo wasn’t sure if it’d feel like home without Jongin in it. He wished Jongin could stay with him always, but Kyungsoo knew he’d have to learn how to stand on his own feet, and learn how to be alone.

And being alone scared him.

“Do you need me to come with you to the doctor tomorrow?”

Kyungsoo shook his head. “I’m a big boy, remember? Plus, I don’t want to owe you too much.”

“That’s my boy,” Jongin replied with a wide smile. “Call me if you need anything. I’ll come running over. But I know you’ll be fine.”

Kyungsoo smiled into the lingering kiss before watching Jongin leave. Once the door closed, Kyungsoo’s smile fell. He took a deep breath before turning back toward his small apartment. It felt emptier already.

 

Kyungsoo woke up to the sun shining in through his window, heating the right side of his face. He squinted, turning to snuggle deep into the covers. Kyungsoo tried not to think about how weird it felt to wake alone after spending so much time with Jongin. He almost wished he didn’t grow attached to it so quickly. But Kyungsoo always got attached too fast. He never really learned how to let go.

He sat up, yawning before getting out of bed. Despite the sun shining brightly, there was something heavy and cloudy hanging over Kyungsoo. All he wanted to do was hide under his covers for a little while longer, but he also wanted to make Jongin proud.

He padded to the kitchen to eat a light breakfast while he waited for the water to boil for tea. He had an appointment later to meet with the psychiatrist. It had been nearly two months since his last visit, and although Kyungsoo knew he was doing so well now. He didn’t want to fall back into that deep dark place he was the first month after his mother’s accident. That was a scary place, and it was even scarier that he embraced that darkness for so long.

Carefully carrying his tea over to his wooden desk, Kyungsoo sat it down neatly beside his typewriter. He smiled as he sat in front of the machine. Always waiting, always patient, always there, much like Jongin. He began the ritual of preparing to write, but this time he did not hesitate, he wrote and wrote until what was left of his drink was cold and the hot sun was high in the spring sky.

Sitting back, Kyungsoo stretched his arms in the air. He always felt better after a long writing session, but a glance at the clock told him that if he didn’t hurry, he’d be late for his appointment.

 

Walking through the busy streets of Seoul, the traffic, and the cars, and the people, had Kyungsoo sweating profusely. In addition to the heaviness in his heart, Kyungsoo was on high alert as he wove through the crowds of people to reach his destination. He didn’t know if he’d ever get used to large crowds, especially after his mother’s accident.  

Sprinting into the large glass building, Kyungsoo quickly checked in and was relieved to be promptly directed to the doctor’s office. Kyungsoo timidly sat down in front of the doctor, his face familiar and warm.

“How have you been, Kyungsoo?” The doctor asked in a bright voice.

Kyungsoo told the doctor about how he had moved to Seoul and planned to attend school soon. He tried to be bright, tried to show the doctor how far he had come, but he couldn’t hide the last vestige of winter inside of him. He couldn’t keep up the act of Spring because not all of the snow had melted, and he was afraid of giving the last of his snowflakes to the sun and its heat. And soon, Kyungsoo was confessing to all of his fears, his suspicions, his wishes, all of the things he dared to want but was too afraid to reach for.

“And Jongin is still around…”

Kyungsoo nodded.

“How is it between you two?”

Kyungsoo’s eyes slid to the ground.

“It’s never been better. He’s been helping me through all of this. It’s like he was sent from heaven.”

The doctor smiled from his plush chair before pushing his glasses up.

“That’s great, and I don’t want to upset you, but hypothetically, what if Jongin were to move away. Say, after graduation, he decides he wants to go abroad or…”

Kyungsoo didn’t hesitate to shake his head. Jongin wasn’t going anywhere, right?

“I know, but what if? Will you be able to handle it?” The doctor asked, a concerned expression on his face.

 

The question plagued Kyungsoo all the way to his apartment. And that night, Kyungsoo lied in bed trying to connect the dots and fit his heart through the paper slot in his typewriter. He rewound the film and pushed the carriage lever on the typewriter in his head. He retraced every foot print in the snow, every heated touch, every look into umber eyes, and every word spoken, until he paused on the front porch, looking at a face that looked like late summer, early autumn, and Jongin was there in piercing color against the white of his mind.

And only then did he realize nothing stays the same forever.

 

Kyungsoo sat in front of his typewriter motioning for Jongin to sit in between his legs this time. The Spring breeze played in his window, rustling the paper airplane spinning from a thin string.

Jongin chuckled before sitting in between Kyungsoo’s legs. Kyungsoo pouted because he could barely see over Jongin’s broad shoulders, but he didn’t need to see to feel.

“Write me something,” Kyungsoo said with a smile on his face, wrapping his arms around Jongin’s middle.

“Alright. Just watch. I’m going to write you a poem,” Jongin beamed.

Kyungsoo laughed at that, but rested his head on Jongin’s back as he listened to the _ticka-tacka-zzing_ fill the room. He felt the muscles in Jongin’s back contract minutely against his chest, his heart. He wanted to remember this moment, every single second of it, so Kyungsoo closed his eyes and tried to imagine what Jongin looked like as he typed, tried to guess what thoughts he was giving to the page.

“Are you falling asleep, Do Kyungsoo? Do I bore you?”

Kyungsoo tightened his arms around Jongin. Jongin could never bore him. It’s just that he didn’t want to corrupt the moment. He wanted it to play out perfectly.

“No, I’m not sleep. I can sleep when I’m dead.”

Jongin laughed. “Damn right! Watch carefully, Do Kyungsoo. You might even be envious and ask me to help you write in the future. Don’t forget to dedicate your first book to me, alright.”

“Who else would I dedicate it to other than my biggest fan.”

“Ha! Fan!? That’s all I am to you?”

Kyungsoo chuckled. “I’ll give you my signature later, don’t worry.”

He didn’t tell Jongin that he was his entire world, and that _he_ was Jongin’s biggest fan.

“You’ve been around me way too long,” Jongin remarked before a few particularly loud ticka-tackas sounded through the room.

“Finished!”

Kyungsoo’s heart sank. Everything happened so fast, and he wasn’t ready for it to be over.

“Alright let me see,” Kyungsoo said, reaching out to grab the piece of paper.

“Nope! Not until you’re famous.”

And Kyungsoo pouted as he imagined the smirk that crossed Jongin’s face as he stood holding the paper out of reach.

“Promise?” Kyungsoo said, defeated, as he looked up at Jongin against the yellow of the sun.

“Yup, I’m going to seal this away in an envelope, and if I find out you’ve opened it beforehand you’re not going to like the consequences.”

“You going to punish me?” Kyungsoo asked, eyes wide and round as he wrapped his arms around Jongin’s waist from his seat in the chair. His chin rested lightly on Jongin’s jean clad hip.

Kyungsoo smirked slightly when he felt Jongin suppress a groan before his eyes grew dark.

“Damn right.”

“It might not be much of a punishment if I like it…,” Kyungsoo said as he snuggled the side of his face dangerously close to Jongin’s crotch.

And Kyungsoo knew he won when Jongin grabbed him up, and he wrapped his thin legs around Jongin’s strong waist as he was carried over to the bed, the paper long forgotten as it fluttered to the floor below.

 

“So, someone bought the house, huh?”

“Yea,” Kyungsoo replied softly as Jongin drew invisible doodles on his bare back.

“You okay?”

“I think so.”

Kyungsoo buried his head in the pillow as Jongin bent down to kiss his shoulder blade. There wasn’t any reason for him to keep the place. No one lived there anymore.

“I… I think I’m ready to move on…”

“Mmm…,” Jongin responded as his butterfly kisses traveled south.

Kyungsoo hid the tear that slid down his face in the covers below as he recognized the constellation Jongin was drawing with his lips.

 

Kyungsoo walked through the empty house, the house that was his home for two years. And although empty, he saw so much in the rooms. His mother, him, Jongin. He and Jongin had made plans to come up for the last time to get any last things, and Kyungsoo didn’t think he’d cry, but this was his home, the beginning of it all, the end of it all.  

Kyungsoo looked out over the woods in his ex-room. The trees were green and dense, without the cold and white hiding them. How many days had he spent staring at tree tops trying to find peace? How many times did he wish he were one of the birds on his windowsill, free and unrestrained? Maybe now he might actually get a piece of what he had been searching for this whole time.

Kyungsoo smiled slightly as he turned from the scene. He didn’t need it anymore.  

 

 

 

“I love you, you know?” Kyungsoo stated as he and Jongin sat snuggled on the ragged sofa in front of the fireplace in the cabin. Despite it being well into spring, Kyungsoo wanted one more fire. The orange and red flames casted dancing shadows on the wooden wall, and bright embers burst into thin air. Kyungsoo turned away from the scene to look into Jongin’s eyes.

“I know. I love you too, but you know that already,” Jongin said, his smile taking Kyungsoo’s breath away.

“If I ask you something, will you get mad at me?” Kyungsoo asked, sitting up to get a better look at Jongin.

“Depends,” Jongin said, a playful smirk dancing on his face.

Kyungsoo swallowed.

“I’m just kidding. I told you I’d never get mad at you.”

Kyungsoo watched the embers self-destruct before looking back at Jongin.

“What if I had to go away? Somewhere really far… and you couldn’t come with me, like abroad or something?” Kyungsoo asked, his eyes sliding to the cover over their legs.

“Well, I guess since you’d have to go, it wouldn’t matter if I asked you to stay…” Jongin began, voice low and thoughtful.

Kyungsoo wanted to tell Jongin that if he asked him not to go, he probably wouldn’t. He’d probably stay here. He’d stay in their world forever and ever.

“So, I’d tell you that you could go as far as you wanted as long as you didn’t forget about me,” Jongin continued as he leaned over and wrapped his arms around Kyungsoo. He placed his lips against a heated cheek, his eyelashes tickling Kyungsoo’s face.

“Even if you couldn’t reach me, even if you didn’t hear from me for a long time, would you still be waiting? Would I still be able to find you?”

“I’d wait for you, Kyungsoo. Where would I go, hmmm? Why are you asking me this?” Jongin chuckled, ruffling Kyungsoo’s hair before leaning back on the couch, his t-shirt riding up just a peek.

Kyungsoo’s eyes never left the fire, his doctor’s face flashing briefly in his mind. He was scared of change. He was scared of letting go. Kyungsoo laid his head down on Jongin’s chest, a heavy shadow cast on his heart.

“Will you still read my book when it’s done?” Kyungsoo asked, eyes fluttering close. “I’ve been working on it, just for you, you know?”

“Is that so? What’s it about?” Jongin asked, raking a tanned hand through dark strands.

“You’ll have to wait and find out.”

“Well, hurry up and finish it. Then we’ll come back here. I’ll have the fire ready, and you bring the book and blanket.”

Kyungsoo nodded slightly, his hand reaching out toward the dying embers.

 

 _I_ _’ll try._

 


	10. Coda

Kyungsoo pushed his fashion frames up on his face, the black plastic slid easily up his nose.  He quietly closed the book as he looked up. He attempted to slow his breathing, but it was difficult because it had been so many years since he visited those memories, since he started writing on that cold day in December.  It had been so many years since he visited Jongin.

 

“If you have any questions for our award winning author, please feel free to raise your hand. We will be answering a few questions before the book signing,” the lecturer said into the microphone.

Kyungsoo straightened in his seat as he ran a hand over the cover of his book. He looked out into the lecture hall and saw eyes glazed as if recalling their own life story. A young lady raised her hand before standing up, and Kyungsoo smiled pleasantly at her.

“Hi! This may be a personal question, but did you ever see Jongin again after the last scene in your book?”

Kyungsoo thought briefly before moving the microphone in front of his mouth.

“To be completely honest, yes. Despite being the “smart one,”  _I_  went back looking for him, despite my doctor's wishes. I couldn't give him up even after the ink had dried. I searched behind every tree, every branch, every sunrise and every sunset for him. I saw him in every fireplace, every keystroke of my typewriter. I heard him on the radio over the piano and saxophone, in the crackling of dying embers, everywhere I turned he was there. I couldn’t believe someone that poignant only existed in my head.

It was all too easy for me to see him and forget everything else. I had stopped taking my medicine one time because I missed him so much. He appeared at my door like very first time I met him. His hair was still brown like recently fallen acorns, his smile white like winter’s first snow, and I almost fell for him all over again. It was as if he were frozen in time, waiting for me to catch up.

How could someone so loving, so caring, so real, be an illusion, a hallucination, a little more than thin air? Jongin was the one who encouraged me and made me the person I am today. How could he not exist? This is something I still ask myself to this day, so many years later.

It is hard for me to believe that Jongin’s me, that I created him, that he wouldn't exist without me, but I like to think otherwise. I wouldn’t exist without him.

And I still catch myself thinking about him under snowfall or when lying on the couch in front of the fire. And I feel guilty because I'm sure he's still waiting for me even now, on the other side, sprawled out on the pale of my comforter, looking up at the constellation above my pillow, waiting for me to dazzle him.

And sometimes I want to go back there and read him my book and ask him if I made him proud, if his investment paid off. I want to ask him if he still loves me like no one else ever did before... I want to tell him that I haven't forgotten about him, and my book is still dedicated to him.”

Kyungsoo paused before continuing.

 “In short, there will always be a part of me that believes Jongin is real, even realer than you and me. And I don't think I'll ever  _not_  see him.”

Kyungsoo stopped, his dark eyes sliding to the book in front of him before he looked up.

"I hope that answered your question. Thank you for asking." 

“Alright, we will take a few more questions before the book signing. Remember that all proceedings for  _The Other Side of Silence_  go directly to Seoul National University’s School of Psychiatric Research. And please look into registering for Dr. Do’s Fantasy and Fiction class in the winter. The classes fill up pretty fast! Oh, how about you, in the back?”  

“Hello, Dr. Do. I’d like to know if you ever read the poem that Jongin wrote for you?”

“Hello! And no, I haven’t read it. It is still sealed in an envelope stuffed in a box at home. I don’t know why I haven’t read it considering technically _I_ wrote it, but I guess I want a bit of mystery to remain. I’ll let Jongin keep those words for me to himself. Thanks for asking!”

Kyungsoo answered every question with a smile, but on the inside, his heart was rattling in its bone cage as memories were reawakened. He managed to keep it together as people came up to him, and he signed each book in vibrant blue ink until he felt like his wrist was going to separate his hand from his body.

 

At the end of the signing, Kyungsoo gathered his belongings, thanking all of the event coordinators before deciding to head back to his office. He was exhausted.

“Excuse me, Dr. Do. I have someone here I’d like you to meet.”

Kyungsoo looked up, his eyes immediately locking onto whiskey color eyes of late fall, and he was afraid.

“Oh!” Kyungsoo exclaimed, trying to gather himself in front of his colleague.

“I’d like you to meet Kim Kai, he’s a local artist here in Seoul. His latest project is composed of recreating scenes from your book _The Other Side of Silence_.”

Kyungsoo dared look at the man as he stuck his own hand out. He was shaking, not sure if this was entirely real. He tried to remember if he took his medicine or if he were still dreaming, but when a few students walked passed and greeted the beautiful stranger, Kyungsoo calmed a bit.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Kim Kai, and I was wondering if you could sign my book too.”

Kyungsoo froze. It was as if he were teleported back to that fateful day in December, and his heart clenched as the memory flooded his mind. The stranger smiled just like… Kyungsoo shook the memories from his head, and grasped the tattered and worn book from tan fingers.

“I’ll leave you two to chat!” Kyungsoo’s colleague remarked before shaking Kim Kai’s hand and walking away.

“Ah, seems like this has seen better days,” Kyungsoo tried to joke as he went to open the cover. He didn’t want Kai to know just how shaken he really was.

Kyungsoo was taken aback by the doodles on the inside cover.  “Wow.”

The stranger laughed, and it had Kyungsoo a little weak in the knees.

 “Please, sign on your favorite page if that’s okay.”

“Sure.”

Kyungsoo’s fingers trembled as he flipped to page 88 and signed near his favorite line. When he was finished, he closed the book and handed it over to the male in front of him. He got a good look this time, and everything was so uncanny, so scarily familiar. Kai's hair was slightly ruffled and his skin was as if dusted with cinnamon. And his eyes were identical to _his_. The only difference was that Kai looked much older than twenty year old Jongin.

"Thanks a lot!” the male exclaimed, shifting slightly from side to side.

If Kyungsoo hadn’t been so afraid that this wasn’t real, he’d have asked the male out for coffee.

 “Uh…,” Kyungsoo said as he went into his bag to pull out a business card.

“For when it’s finished. I’d love to see it,” Kyungsoo continued with a wide smile of his own.

 

 

Kyungsoo sat in front of his old Remington No. 5 typewriter. The  _ticka-tacka_  sound whirled around his head as he worked on his manuscript. No one or nothing existed when he got like this, and his fingers flew over the keyboard. How far he had come from back then when he worried if the machine would jam.

Pushing the carriage lever to take him back to the beginning, Kyungsoo yawned before playing the mechanical melody again.

Reaching the bottom of the page, Kyungsoo slid the paper out and placed it beside the machine before reaching for a sip of lukewarm mint tea. He brought the small cup up to his lips but found himself lurching forward.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Doctor!"

Kyungsoo's hand jerked back as his eyes widened.  He watched with horror as the liquid sloshed onto his freshly printed paper, but a wave of nostalgia washed over him causing him to laugh off the mishap and pat his colleague on the back before dashing to his meeting with Kim Kai.

Kyungsoo walked out of the faculty building. He'd never admit it, but Seoul wasn't so bad after all. The sun was shining high in the sky as he walked off campus, and he smiled as several students bowed as they walked past him. As he continued walking, however, the crowd became thicker as students poured out of their classes. Kyungsoo held his leather briefcase close as he wove through the people.

When he reached the small coffee shop they agreed to meet at, Kyungsoo was a bit flustered, but when he saw the tan male wave at him from a table near the window, Kyungsoo smiled. Timidly, he walked over and bowed to Kai before sitting.

“Oh! Should I order something?” Kyungsoo asked, eyes wide as he saw Kai’s cup sitting in front of him.

The male across from him smiled. “How about I order for you?”

Kyungsoo went to wave the taller male off, but he was already standing, silhouette dark against the sunrayed window, but Kyungsoo wasn’t afraid this time. It only made him more alluring, and he wanted to find out what else was behind those whiskey colored eyes.

“Tea?”

“Uh… No, how about dark roast.” Kyungsoo replied, smiling up at the taller male.

Once Kai walked away, Kyungsoo settled into his seat and looked out the window, staring at the people walking down the street, on their way to some place, someone. Kyungsoo looked down, loneliness clouding his thoughts, swirling like smoke from a blown out candle.

“One dark roast!” Kai exclaimed, smiling as he slid over in the seat across from Do Kyungsoo.

Kyungsoo thanked the male quietly, trying not to stare, trying not to get lost in features he used to get lost in everyday.

“I hope I did your book justice, Dr. Do. The moment I opened it, I couldn’t put it down, and I just had to illustrate several scenes because everything was so vivid.”

“Oh, thank you, and just call me Kyungsoo. Please.” Kyungsoo said, bringing the bitter liquid to his lips, hoping that if this wasn’t real, the assault on his taste buds would bring him out of this reverie. But Kai was still there thirty minutes and two refills later.

“Ready to go, Kyungsoo?”

Kyungsoo’s heart sped up at how his name slid off of Kai’s lips, and for a moment he wasn’t sure if it was Kai or Jongin who called his name, so clear, piercing through the silence in his head.

Kyungsoo nodded before standing and following Kai’s, whose eyes were already on the road ahead. He wasn’t afraid anymore as he walked out into the lunch time hustle and bustle.

“Over here! It’s just down this road,” Kai smiled, his eyes rivaling the sun as he called out to Kyungsoo over the crowd.

“Did you hear me!?”

Kyungsoo smiled, weaving through the crowd trying to get closer to Kai, his briefcase pressed to his chest to still his wildly beating heart.

_I heard you loud and clear._

 

Don't be afraid

let your mind cross over

to dream, to fantasize

reality waits as it lies

just on the other side

-Jongin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading The Other Side of Silence. It means a lot to me, and I'd be thrilled to hear your thoughts. I know my story-telling isn't that great nor is this beta'd, but I still hope this was an enjoyable read. If you're confused or have any questions about the plot, just let me know! 
> 
> ily,  
> appeuro


	11. Explanation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is for those who have no clue what they just read! Though all interpretations and thoughts about my work are welcome. These are just my main ideas and intentions for the story! :)

Basic Summary + Back Story

So, basically, Kyungsoo lives in the countryside with his mentally ill mother. They moved out there after Kyungsoo's mother's accident, and they've been living there for two years, nearly isolated from everyone and everything, except to go to town once a month. Kyungsoo has "successfully" convinced himself that he likes it out in the country, and he believes he's happier, and his mother healthier, living nearly surrounded by nothing but nature. I guess this is where things get a bit psychological and hard to explain, but they aren't happier or healthier because basically Kyungsoo and his mother both suffer from mental illnesses and have a rare case of _folie a duex_ as seen through Jongin. 

I didn't go too much into Kyungsoo's back story because he suppressed a lot of it, but from what we know, the trauma of his father walking out leaving him to take care of his mentally ill mother, plus his mother's diagnoses/accident and him having to give up a once in a life time opportunity to study at SNU was extremely traumatizing to Kyungsoo. His moving out into the country was more of a reaction to his traumatic experiences rather than the need to take care of his ill mother. So, the isolation, his mother's ongoing issues, and Kyungsoo's own creative and overactive imagination, only made things ripe for his own mental illness to thrive. And all of this resulted in Kyungsoo disassociating and creating Jongin on that fateful morning.

Jongin

Jongin is part fantasy part hallucination. I tried to write Jongin in a way that seemed too good to be true, kind of like James Dean or something. Jongin is charismatic, always knows what to say, and is completely different than Kyungsoo. Jongin appeared seemingly out of the _blue_ and was partly thought up by Kyungsoo's repressed creative mind (his natural disposition to write) and his need for a coping mechanism. Jongin can also be an alter-ego of some sort. I didn't want to make him a scary hallucination, like the kind you find in _A Beautiful Mind_ because I think it is terrifying enough not knowing if who you are talking to is real or not. Jongin served to help Kyungsoo cope with the loneliness and isolation, the ongoing abuse Kyungsoo had to endure from his mother, and was sort of that knight in shining armour Kyungsoo's sub-conscious craved. So, in a way, Kyungsoo broke himself to fix himself.

Jongin + Kyungsoo's Mother

I think this might be the hardest thing to explain, but I'll try. lol As mentioned in the story, Kyungsoo's mother is mentally ill. I didn't go into details about her diagnoses, but we do know that she is extremely paranoid  and possessive over Kyungsoo. She basically had a self-fulfilling prophecy. She is so convinced that Kyungsoo will leave her that Kyungsoo literally created someone he was willing to leave with. They fed each other's delusions, and when she saw Kyungsoo talking to Jongin one day when they came back from the cabin, that was all it took. She didn't question anything. Her own mental illness didn't allow her to logically see that Kyungsoo was talking to thin air. All she saw was Kyungsoo confirming everything she had believed for years. And there came her ability to see Jongin. Of course, her version of Jongin probably doesn't look like Kyungsoo's version of Jongin, but with them both seeing a male hallucination, they validated each other's delusions. And of course, Kyungsoo probably also mentioned Jongin in scenes we don't see in the story. So,  in the end, Kyungsoo's mother pushed her own delusion/hallucination onto her son, resulting in their ability to both see Jongin. You can read more about Folie a deux [here](http://f1000research.com/articles/1-18/v1).

Cabin + Woods+ West

The woods is a metaphor for Kyungsoo's mind, the cabin is his happy place (elaboration in inspiration), and west represents the unknown and all of Kyungsoo's hopes and dreams he suppressed and the life he left behind. I also wanted to suggest that being alone too long, or being in your head too long isn't a good thing. You can begin to lose touch with reality, and that is exactly what happened with Kyungsoo. 

Party + Second Accident

The party is 100% real. Kyungsoo basically relived the night of his mother's Seoul accident. He had to relive it to get over it. On the night of his mother's first accident, Kyungsoo was celebrating his first semester at Seoul National University, and that's why he wasn't home and his mother had her accident. Kyungsoo knew his group of writer friends had a party every semester, which is why he attended the one on the night of his mother's second accident. The writer's, aside from Sehun, all knew Kyungsoo, which is why they didn't question his attendance too much nor introduce themselves (Plus, they are all blazed and drunk out of their minds).

Kai + Ending Kai is mainly up to the reader to interpret, but my original intention is that Kai is actually a repressed memory from the past, like one of his writer friends and quite possibly the guy he had sex with in the house party bathroom, and I'm interested in elaborating on their relationship in a s/prequel or something. :)

Other possible interpretation

The only reality is the first few paragraphs of the fanfiction and everything else is just a big fantasy story written on Kyungsoo's typewriter by Kyungsoo (Kyungsoo could have been writing the next greatest novel for all anyone knew. ). All other interpretations are welcome!

Themes (?)

Nature, writing, cold, blue, etc. I think these might be self-explanatory, so I won't go into detail about all that stuff.

Inspiration

-Nature 

-My life 

-I'm a huge fan of the beat poets and poetry.

\- _Kill Your Darlings_. Allen Ginsberg (Kyungsoo), Lucius Carr (Jongin), Ginsberg's mother (Kyungsoo's mother).  I also drew inspiration from the party scene. 

-Anne Sexton's poem _Her Kind_. (inspiration for setting and Kyungsoo's mother) 

-William Butler Yeat's poem _The Lake Isle of Innisfree_ (insipration for the cabin and Kyungsoo's happy place) 

-Sylvia Plath's poem _Mad Girl's Love Song_

-Charle's Bukowski poem _Alone with Everybody_

-A hint of Allen Ginsberg's _Howl_

- _My Mother_ Darah Wolf 

-Gerard Hopkins' poem _No worst, There is_

-Treachorous  \- Taylor Swift 

-Out of the Woods  \- Taylor Swift 

-Style  \- Taylor Swift 

Poem

The poem is original, but I have no title for it. I may elaborate on it in a sequel/prequel maybe! 

 

** Title  **

The title represents sound, Jongin, and the world Kyungsoo supressed and ran from. Kyungsoo wanted peace and silence, which is why he moved out to the country. However, his mind became chaotic, loud, and noisy in the process. Jongin represents the other side of silence. 

Writing process.

This current version is the third draft. I mainly inserted three chapters that elaborated on Kyungsoo's experience after his mother's second accident.  Aside from that, this story was difficult only in the sense that I had no clue where I wanted to take it. One of my versions included murder and a bonnie and clyde type of affair between Kyungsoo and Jongin, another version was happily ever after (with a very real Jongin), but I stuck with this one because I wanted to try something different. xD I attempted to have this beta'd but the person I asked only did the first chapter before leaving me high and dry [like wtf], so I have no clue how the rest of the story turned out. If anyone would be interested in beta'ing this story, I'd be so grateful, and would credit you of course! All of my writing is a work in process, so I can't say for sure this is the final draft. My mind is always churning up better ideas in distance.

Conclusion

Anyway, I hope that cleared up some things if some people were confused. If you have any questions or want to share your thoughts, I would love to hear from you, as I'm still new to creative writing and would love and appreciate  feedback. Also, my intentions for this fic were not to romanticize mental illness or anything like that, but before you accuse me of something like that, pm me. ^^


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